![By Viviane Sassen](https://theoffingmag.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/02/denny-muller-tajh_UdgIgY-unsplash-scaled.jpg)
a robot texts me at 9 am every morning
to make sure i haven’t polluted myself.
once, i was a masterpiece in an apartment
everyone left. door walloped off its hinges.
to quote the christian delusion of you —
we are made in your image,
to offer (ourselves).
O, Cloud Spitter, Sky Shitter, my bad.
all that’s left in this yard sale: gentle collisions,
mangled dreams. Tomorrow, the drink
and the hangover
in a dead heat.