Ren Pike

Old gods

the world is ready for new deities
the ancient ones are struggling, stumbling
around at 3am, looking for the lavatory
humanity tangled in their feet

most days they forget what was promised
fine print getting smaller and smaller
it’s so easy to smite everything
when one falls and can’t get up

yes, they wear the smart watch
offered with reverence, even admire it
gleaming on their sinewy wrist; it beeps and whirs
doesn’t mean they plan to answer

their place is such a mess, stove left on
garbage stinking, proscriptions piled high
one can hardly get in the door without tripping
over one human catastrophe or another

it’s a steady stream of close calls
just last week they fell prey to a grandparent scam
trading in their cache of low-lying Pacific islands
for an unrecoverable payment in bitcoin

it’s only a matter of time before they
fall asleep next to the rain forest, lit
cigarette in hand, or break off that one
remaining ice shelf for their sundowner

© Ren Pike

Ren Pike grew up in Newfoundland. Through sheer luck, she was born into a family who understood the exceptional value of a library card. Her work has appeared in Whale Road Review, Riddle Fence, and Cutbow Quarterly. When she is not writing, she wrangles data in Calgary, Canada.

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