by Mackenzie Dwyer
Artwork by Alexa Gaffaney
Know that you, like everyone else,
will spend more time disintegrating
than living. (Except you’ve integrated
precious little to begin with.)
Know also that the reason
you can’t play basketball to save your life
is not because you are a stump
of a human being.
It’s because you,
unlike the rest of us,
lack that natural grasp of trajectory.
Thus I must inform you of your own:
you have no future in basketball,
in construction, communication,
or in any area
that somehow requires
putting one thing into another thing.
You can’t even stomach a full meal.
You talentless, almost
wholly vapid slice of vegetable,
I worry for you
& your progeny surely,
unlike mine, to come.