Empty my head of the night
mare horses so only hoof prints
remain. Brush my teeth with Vaseline
to ensure that beauty queen smile.
Sprinkle gun powder on my oatmeal
and stir it with a stick of dynamite.
Wash it down with a mug of gasoline.
Leave the house without a hat. Hotwire
the car with an old screwdriver and
back out without so much as a glance
in the rear-view mirror. Shift into neutral
as soon as I merge on the highway
and mash the accelerator to the floor.
Patrick Meeds lives in Syracuse, New York and he studies writing at the Syracuse YMCA’s Downtown Writers Center. He has been previously published in Stone Canoe, the New Ohio Review, Tupelo Quarterly, Atticus Review, Whiskey Island, Guernica, The Main Street Rag, and Nine Mile Review, among other places.