Jessica Swanson
When Your Boss Sends An Email
that reads, “Team,
due to unfortunate circumstances,
paychecks will be late this week.
Plan accordingly,”
go to the nearest 7-11,
buy a pumpkin spice latte,
and a scratch off with your last ten.
Keep the change for tomorrow
when you do it again.
Tell yourself the same lie—
“If I win, I can finally quit
this b— and I won’t have
to work ever again.”
Go home
to your apartment. Play
roulette with your checking
and your savings accounts.
Shuffle money back and forth.
If you can just make it through
the weekend, the paycheck will
come before the rent clears.
If you are lucky,
there won’t be an overdraft fee.
When the world send you signs
that the world is ending,
plan accordingly.
Let your dog on the couch,
even if you told her no.
She’s eleven, cataracted,
inching ever closer
to the rainbow bridge.
Grab her close,
bury your nose in her fur.
Breathe deep.
Pretend you’re an artisan chef.
Smash your own avocado
down onto your half-burnt wheat toast.
Sprinkle sea salt, chili flakes.
Let your lapsang souchong steep,
breathe in the smoke,
consider your emergency contacts.
Rank them, call none, start a group chat.
Add only the people who you harbor
limerent affection for. Delete it.
Take a walk. Get some fresh air.
Stray too far into the field at the
end of the neighborhood that can’t
be paved over because of some ordinance claim.
Find a fairy ring. Stomp into it.
Herald doom.
Sit down, shut your eyes,
have a change of heart, changeling.
Open your eyes, look at your palm,
look closer—study the heart line,
internal death clock,
really just high anxiety.
Forget yourself again.
Sigh, look up at the sun.
Heave back to your feet,
keep walking.
Into the woods you go.
Sprout horns. Grow scales.
Grow teeth. Grow hungry
and bored of it all.
No meteors here.
Only shade and ichor.
It hurts to look up.
Slouch off to Bethlehem.
Find a tar pit. Join your kin.
The end is coming.
The hour is at hand—
golden, glimmering.
Take a selfie.
Plan accordingly, starlight.
Jessica Swanson (she/her) is a librarian and a writer. She lives somewhere along Florida’s Nature Coast. She has a fondness for cats, cheese, and hot tea. Her work has appeared in or is forthcoming from Dog Teeth Lit, Sage Cigarettes Magazine, Voidspace Zine, and others. Follow her on X/Twitter at Cooljazsheepie or Instagram at everystupidstar.