Subsentimental

Allison Leigh

You met me while I was in the middle of
doing everything wrong. I published before
editing, showered before eating, smoked
before sex. What an idiot I was without any

normal human food in my fridge and without
a taste for taste. It’s not surprising they
don’t come by anymore, the men in the dark

blue suits. I saw the moon from Nebraska one
summer glowing red as a red balloon and big
as a big fake moon someone sewed on

the night sky. “For heaven’s sake, this place
is a pig sty,” said god, but no one listens
to soliloquies when people have earphones
plugged in to very personal soundtracks.