i stop by my old house when the new owners aren’t home to have metaphysical sex with the smoking hot ghost of my dead wife and she burns my little penis right off when i don’t have an answer about where our kids are. i still manage to come but it’s sad and pathetic and i leave with tears in my eyes and my own spunk cold and sticky on my thigh. six hours into the drive home i remember my kids are still at a bus stop in sheboygan. i drink until i forget again



















