Today feels like the end of the world, so
I’m pretending that I’m high.
It’s easier that way.
I refuse reality. I will not play along.
The boulevard is smeared with piles of Oreo ice cream.
A river flows on the edge of the street and
10 year old boys race popsicle sticks.
My dad’s truck splashes by, almost hits us.
My dad doesn’t wave because
there’s work to be done.
There’s always something to do,
even while the world is dying.