By Maddy Sneep
My library books are two weeks overdue and the kitchen is a
swamp. Lily pads of mold in the coffee pot on a creek of week-
old medium roast. A rotten tube of ground beef leaks blood in
the fridge like roadkill. Dirty laundry in the closet. Gotta do the
laundry. I’m Sisyphus doing laundry every day until I perish. I
could build a cathedral with the rocks I’ve pushed up this hill.
My library books are four weeks overdue. I’m almost done with
one book, the rest I haven’t touched. But I will, goddammit. I swear
I’m going to read them all. That’s what normal, functioning people
do. Read books. I’ll return them with bloody fingerprints if I have
to. For now I lay paralyzed on the couch. I could be reading, but I’d
rather get stoned and corrode on green velvet until it’s time to go to
bed. The stack of dirty laundry grows taller. Gotta do the laundry.
My library books are six weeks overdue. I haven’t made any more
progress. I washed the laundry, though. Washed it all. Dried it, too.
OK, that was a lie. The stack of dirty laundry actually grew taller
and wider and took the shape of a three-headed dragon. It’s ready
to swallow me whole. The library books grew wings and now circle
like vultures. This doesn’t phase me—I’m not afraid of them. I’m
in a staring contest with the ceiling fan and I’m winning. Finally
winning. The ceiling fan and I are kindred spirits. It will never
know what it is to spin clockwise. We have that in common.
MADDY SNEEP’s work is published or forthcoming in HORNS, Stone of Madness, and Papers Publishing. Her poetry won 3rd place in the Papers Publishing Poetry and Prose Contest in 2023. She also peddles her wares on her Etsy shop, SNEEPSTUDIOS. She lives in Austin, TX with her two cats who inspire her to work less and lounge more.
Hot Pot Magazine 