His End of Days
with pants turned backwards the world seeming upside down he sneers at incontinence for he was told it would come not the way rivers do but more so the trickling tributary that has no visible source of origin wondering what role centrifugal force plays is it the way a 33 LP turns on a turntable repping revolutions which involves repetitive 360 degree turns the way the earth does and the moon’s unyielding pull I pull up his pull-ups turn his pants frontward he will never smell roses again my smile sufficiently satisfying fitting for his end of days © emmett wheatfall