[poem] It’s Halloween Again

It’s been Halloween for three seasons.
I don’t mean October 31st
We’re not in a time loop.
It’s been a half-open otherworld up here.
Misty metallic air, like the whole atmosphere is woven with ghosts.
Earth breathes greener than it’s ever been in front of these eyes (these old bad boys, these astigmatic dorks)
The sky blinks sunny and blue but there’s a rainy electricity in the air.
You can smell it.
It’s Halloween so early? So late? So long
But it’s Spring. It’s gotta be. The weather searches for softball
and shuffles the tarot cards.
Mushrooms puff out of the grass,
and candles do too, like ominous flaming flowers (all colors)
There’s a twinkle in the eye of every pond
glitter in the inhale
exhale
of dusk and dawn
and all of us can fly.
Trees crack their backs and
all black cats can talk
birds chirp fairies fairies fairies
I hope this lasts.

The Enemies of a Peace Treaty: Chapter 1

Perhaps beaming myself into a public place wasn’t the best idea. In my defense, these people weren’t supposed to be here. 

The old guy kicked my knee. “How are we supposed to believe you’re from the future?” he asked. 

They’ve been asking me this for about an hour. Only a few people saw me enter this timeline, but one of them had a camera. Soon, I was tied to a garden bench encircled by a small crowd.  

“I’ve been a light harvester for my whole life. Okay, since I was thirteen. When y’all ruined the Earth in 2020 during the flu, or what was it called? The Pandemic. Right. The American government nearly ruined the Earth, killing millions of people. There was some sort of explosion, forgive me, history isn’t my best subject. 
“Anyway, Americans were allowed outside during the Pandemic just as people were starting to feel better. That was in May 2020. Then, millions of people died in a week.”

The oldest of the group gaped at me. “Then let’s stop that from happening! May 2020 is only six months from now. We have time!” 

I laughed and shook my head. “I’m not here to stop the pandemic. That’s a great example of what we call a Fixed Event. Something so important to history that no matter what anyone does, it’ll happen again and again.” 

“That makes no sense, if we just told the government-” 

“Gonna stop you right there,” I said. “The government doesn’t care. Your government and people have been molded in place for hundreds of years just for the event to occur.” 

Everyone was silent. I knew I shouldn’t be telling them all this. But I just couldn’t help myself.  “Once it became clear that humanity would overpopulate themselves at too fast a rate, mass extinction was inevitable.” There are other reasons, but let’s just say I don’t know about them.

“If you’re not here to stop the pandemic,” Someone asked. “Then why are you here?”

I sighed. Everyone back home was right. These people were really dumb. Maybe it’s just Americans? “I’m here to stop the Peace Treaty of 2020.” 

to be continued

The Attack of the Quarantine Karens

On April 20, 2020, three Karens from different cities in the United States of America banded together. Their mission was to open every non-essential business across America. But their bond went deeper than their selfish need for haircuts. Yes. Though their gray roots sprouted several inches past their usual bleach session, what brought them together was their collective need to scream at anyone who made less money than them. 

The three Karens drove from all across the country to get to Minneapolis, Minnesota. One came from Denver, Colorado. One came from Lansing, Michigan. And the final Karen hailed from Atlanta, Georgia. 

“You liberal scum you leotard hangliding riff raff scallywag yellowbelly mommy yupping gum cock,” They chanted collectively under their breath. “You’ll never tell me what to do. Not ME. My body. MY rights.” They went through this long bizzare phrase until they blushed with fatigue. 

“Governor Tim Walz will not let these ladies get haircuts,” said Lansing Karen, motioning to her surroundings. The streets were empty, save a few cars. 

“Our government is losing its mind,” Atlanta Karen said. “All we need to do is get Trump down here and fix everything.” 

Just then, a popping sound echoed through their empty heads. 

“What is this?” Denver Karen pushed her gooey fingers into her ears.

“It’s like Pop Rocks!” Atlanta Karen screamed. “I only know because my 37 year old son eats them everyday with his breakfast. He’s a strong boy, he really is.” 

“MAKE IT STOP,” Bellowed Lansing Karen, clutching her ears. 

“You cannot make it stop,” came a loud voice from below. The three Karens looked down. At their feet stood an army of 1-inch creatures. There must’ve been a few hundred of them. Their bodies were neon green and smooth. The army took up the same space as two standard-size SUV tires (new tires, like from a lease). 

“Only we can stop it,” said the creature. With that, he snapped his tiny fingers and the popping noise stopped. 

Atlanta Karen put her hands on her hips and narrowed her beady eyes. “And who do you think you are, exactly?” 

“We are the virus,” he replied. “And unfortunately for everyone here, nature is healing.” 

The three Karens signed the cross, turned in a circle and spit. “You can’t say those words here!” 

“My name is Covid,” continued the 1-inch creature. He gestured to his army, “And these are the Chads. We can help you three brave women achieve your goals. You want to dye those roots? Done. You need to pick up some overly-religious birthday cards for your gay niece in a longrunning effort to smack the devil out of her? Done. You want to drink vodka sodas at your favorite tiki bar? Done. All we need is one small favor.” 

The three karens turned to each other in a huddle. All three heads touched, though their hair was sharpened with copious amounts of hairspray and poked each other’s eyes. They finished their muttering and turned to Covid, crossing their arms. 

“We’re going to need to speak to your manager,” They said in unison, turning up their noses. 

Covid furrowed his brows. “That’s obviously me,” he snapped. “I literally just said…nevermind.” 

At this, a seething rage went through all three karens. So strong that their bodies lifted into the air as a single thought raced through them. How dare this tiny neon asparagus head talk to me like this. The tone! 

——————————————————————

Long story short, Chad and the Covids took over the brains of the three Karens, who in turn rounded up an angry mob of dumbasses. They all became infected, millions of people died. Fortunately, most of these deaths were the dumbest and greediest people on the planet. This has positively affected the bell curve of idiocy. Humanity is collectively more intelligent now. 

Once Chad and the Covids succeeded in reducing overpopulation by way of eliminating evildoers (their true goal all along), they sunk back into the Earth and became seeds. Over the next few years, humanity saw a surge of beautifully tall trees pop up all over the world, one by one. 

You want to know about the other people who needlessly died because of the Karens? They were some of the kindest and hardworking people humanity had. Doctors, nurses, grocery store clerks, garbage handlers. Their names are engraved in glass sculptures all over the world. 

Plants dance

The upstairs neighbors upset me from time to time, with loud bangs and scraping. But I’m on the top floor. Sound carries in weird ways which are annoying all the same.

Four young plants moved into the apartment a few weeks ago. One’s called Monstera Deliciosa and I can’t wait for it to sprout holes in its leaves. I check as often as possible, hoping to catch a leaf breaking the moment it happens.

Another plant lifts up in the morning with the sun, then shrugs when the light goes behind the buildings. Weird. Plants dance.

It must’ve been about the book the last time I wrote here. I gave up on poetry at some point last year, or gave up trying to make other people read it. Or gave up on making money. I’m trying to give up on every aspect except making them. See how much I’ve changed? I’m easy-going as a houseplant.

YOU vs. ME part 4: BEHIND

Click on the cover or right here to read part 4

“Behind” is the final chapter of the four-part poetry series, You vs. Me. It’s angsty. It’s full of rage and bitterness. It’s the true spirit of You vs. Me.

Other titles in this series:
Part 1: Honestly
Part 2: You’re Better Off
Part 3: Leaving Everything

Buy the book here

Thank you for reading,
Eva