Mike Atkins


And I seeped through the steel and sizzled into steam at the radiator’s righteous touch but my heart stayed separate and got stuck to the starter and I smother the spark that let life go on and made earth into wind into fire and blazed up and razed what was there and left a thick smog of sentience that somehow stayed for centuries before it started to thin out and they called me god and I laughed at their great misfortunes, the greatest of which trumped my being their creator and I looked down at these sad people and I barfed blood that drowned their cities and I sent saline sailing downward to supply the nutrients for sylvan surroundings by my salt raped their soil and I felt my hand squeeze firm on its breast as it gave up any last hope of salvation for the hell I held in my heart and in my hand and in my head I couldn’t stop laughing but my eyes rolled out tears to sorrow to blend with its and we created a new planet made of water where everything was born dead so mistakes didn’t matter but it didn’t have soul so we cried about that before my eyes ran dry and its eyes its bruised from my volatile collapses into black hole bar crawls where I slept like an infant for I was newborn into this world and I knew not what to do but you expected as such and I thought it would work out but it didn’t and I wish I could say I’m sorry but in my head I can’t stop laughing.

Euphemism Campus Box 4240 Illinois State University, Normal, IL 61790-4240