I fill my pockets with rocks, not
in a Kate Chopin way. I tie boxes
of books to my ankles.
When she says “You’re like an ATV:
all-terrain”, I resist from replying, yes
I hope you one day ride me hard,
I’m color blind to the pattern
of her panties. I’m not checking
the Feng Shui of her bra on my floor.
I remove the larynx of Magic 8-Balls,
let the answers rattle down the stairs.
I don’t bother listening.
About the Author: J. Bradley is a contributing writer to Specter Magazine and the Interviews Editor of PANK Magazine. He lives at iheartfailure.net.