I’m listening to Red House Painters with my blood in a tub when a sofa hands me a beer. The second sentence doesn’t believe in pumping gas. I wake up wanting exactly no one. I move on to wanting to remember where I said I’d be when I woke up if I could choose & you would still be there. You said something I don’t remember but I remember your face when you said it. I quit asking, get up & water my cactus. I brush my teeth & think about the NCAA tournament. The thing about the end of your life is you’ll never know how to feel about it until it’s just there.

Parker Tettleton is a vegan Leo living in Portland, Oregon. He is the author of Ours Mine Yours (Pity Milk Press, 2014), Greens (Thunderclap Press, 2012), & Same Opposite (Thunderclap Press, 2010). More information can be found here.

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