During a Power Outage I Face the Fact I’d Last 20 Minutes Post-Apocalypse In Spite of All My Video Game Training

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I’ve been preparing for this for forty years
yet can’t even find batteries
for the flashlight. We’ll power up
with power bars and these cans of soup
bought three blizzards ago and if we hurry
we can forage in the deli before others panic
and I think those drops searing holes
through my shirt may be acid rain. I have
no clue where we’ll find two high-tech
combat suits or cryogenic limbs and why
is the sky scarlet and my, how the rats
have quadrupled in size.
                                    Love, I miss
your lips as they slip from your face.
There goes my hair. There goes the delicate
shell of us. Perhaps we should lie down
on this highway of rubble and ash until we hear
the wind whistle past what were our ears and,
Love, do not fear that blinking light
and high-pitched beep, that’s what health
we have left before this world starts over.
DURING A POWER OUTAGE I FACE THE FACT I’D LAST 20 MINUTES POST-APOCALYPSE IN SPITE OF ALL MY VIDEO GAME TRAINING by SM Stubbs

Photo used under CC.




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About Author

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SM Stubbs is the co-owner of a bar in Brooklyn, NY. He grew up in South Florida and received an MFA from Indiana University. He is the recipient of a scholarship to Bread Loaf and has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize as well as Best New Poets. In addition, he is the winner of the 2019 Rose Warner Poetry Prize from Freshwater Review. Poems have appeared in The Pinch, The Normal School, Jabberwock Review, Cherry Tree, Poetry Northwest, Opossum, Glassworks, The Collagist and others, with work forthcoming in Puerto del Sol, Quiddity and Carolina Quarterly.

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