You die in your sleep. Mid dream. Write a poem or short story where your entrance to the afterlife is dreamlike. Do not use the words dream, dead, cloud, or cold. You MUST use nuts, cargo, lightness, and pill. Call on the Black Lagoon, if you must.

Due June 26th. Fool… nuts…

Listening to: Famous Last words by My Chemical Romance

In My Own Arms is the reason for the season

the worst that can happen
ain’t death, debt, and taxes
i tell you
it’s getting raped and eaten by a bear
foot appetizer
claws and roar at yer back
teeth splitting the pimples
on your shoulder

so i get up
drink water
at 2 17 in the morning
high off the fight
5 hours ago
look out the window
and man i WANT someone
coming over that fence
need a reason for the machete

but it’s wet black quiet
and in the shadows
i know humidity waits
for the sunrise
and that’s ok
cause it’s may in miami
and survival is finding
moments of cool:
90 mph on my arms
the hairs
a million record player needles
scratching out
a song that starts
with a big fucking