NOTHING OF THE MONTH CLUB

Summer. We switched the colors in our town’s only traffic light to blue, pink and purple. Lo-card country-grade acid. A sun-soaked caramel apple, festering, steady the hour settles on my coffin’s cover. Loving freely and boring easily, I changed my phone number to CALIFORNIA. (The stupid screen’s still cracked, the screen’s always cracked.) Death is the one and only law with no flaw. Dust into dust. Don’t call me. Don’t text.

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from Nothing of the Month Club–published by Broken Sleep Books

Buy it here

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By Jeff Alessandrelli 👍