I have failed you time again
with my six-pack rings and unrecyclables.
I have bought oil and gas
from the shady-ass company
who drilled through the Snork Pole
long before they messed up Pensacola.
I have plopped a bleach disc
in my toilet tank without so much as yelling
a single “Sorry, Snorks,” down the pipe when I flushed.
But hey, at least I’m no Junior Wetworth,
union busting and cramming my pockets full of salt,
right? At least I stay up here in outer space
where we never have to face each other.
You’re welcome, little friend, you’re welcome.

Jennifer Schomburg Kanke, originally from Columbus, Ohio, lives in Tallahassee, Florida, where she edits confidential government documents, which is not nearly so spy-like as it sounds. Her work has appeared previously in Drunk Monkeys, as well as in Prairie Schooner, Nimrod, and Sou'wester. She serves as a reader for Emrys.