Cody Roggio: 1 Poem

End

I get fired from my job for stealing money from the register. I am weeks away from a promotion I’ve worked two years for. On my last day you pick me up and I tell you what happened; you are disappointed but not surprised. I ask if we can go to bed early tonight so we can wake up early tomorrow and you say that’s fine. You fall asleep at ten and I stay up until six am smoking your cigarettes. Something inspires me to write. Something inspires me to masturbate. I do it quiet next to you hoping you won’t wake up. After I finish, I pull out my old computer from my closet and take it apart. The motherboard looks like a tiny city. In the dim of my cell phone flashlight I take the parts of my old computer and create a version of myself. I program it to love you using beginners C++ and basic HTML. The computer version of me makes money by mining bitcoin, and every two weeks it’ll automatically order you a tarot card deck and a pair of black boots. You’ll be happy. I lay the robot version of myself in bed next to you. You turn your body and put your head on it’s chest; you seemingly can’t tell the difference. The computer version of me is programmed to kiss you awake at ten in the morning. I open my window and step out into the cold. There’s a car parked nearby in the alley and I try opening the door. It’s unlocked so I get inside and start trying to hotwire it. Halfway through watching the Youtube tutorial I pulled up on hotwiring vehicles, the police pull up. They charge me with a misdemeanor but I need a felony so I start swinging at the cop, hoping he’ll shoot me, but I’m too white and he just tazes me instead. I get two years for assaulting a police officer and attempting to steal a car. I read a lot in jail. I write a lot. I eat a lot of food. I don’t worry about my belongings. When I get out, I’m clean off of drugs and staying at my cousin’s. He hides his guns because he’s afraid I’d kill myself if I found them. One day while looking for them while my cousin is at work, I open a door in his apartment I’d never seen before. Blue light bursts through the doorway and brings me to my knees, the force pushing me down and away as I grip the wood paneling of my cousin’s bedroom floor and try pulling myself towards the light. The noise coming from beyond the blue light is deafening, like a hundred trains all going by at once, and I wonder if the other folks living in the apartment complex can hear it. I wonder if my cousin knew about this door when he moved in, and if it brought the price of the apartment down. I am flattened on the floor and I reach one arm out toward the open blue flaming deafening door, then I reach my other arm out and pull myself closer with all of my might. It takes me five minutes to get to the door and I push my hand into the light and I feel a million particles come at me, my skin gets so warm, I’m so close, I bend my knees and dig my shoes into the ground and push forwards, my entire arm is engulfed in the light now, it feels completely asleep, I hear my cousin open the front door downstairs, drop his bags, and start running up the stairs. He turns the corner to his room and screams CODY NO! but I can only half hear him over the noise from the blue light door, and now my body is engulfed down to my knees and I give one final push and I’m gone.

My life flashes before my eyes and I see a couple places I could have made better decisions, but all I can muster up is a “meh.”

I think about you and your robot boyfriend. I hear you two are getting married and I’m happy for you.

Sometimes people live long lives and you think that eventually, something important will happen, just because it has to, right? but then the important part never comes and then boom.

Cody Roggio lives somewhat outside of Philly and has been published on Philosophical Idiot, Clash, Heavy Athletics, and in Witchcraft Mag. He runs Secret Lovers, but that’s on hiatus right now. His Instagram is @somethrills. He’s working on an experimental harsh noise project, hit him up if you can scream well.

Rebecca Pyle: 4 Photographs and a Drawing

William Blackburn: 2 Poems