A Good Little Girls Zine

Illustration by Allie Olivares

Time's Up by Celeste Bloom

at 3am,
I fantasize about letting the air out of my neighbor’s tires
deflating his entitlement, for parking in my spot
karma just needed a little encouragement

I lie all snug in my bed
to visions of shoving that lady at the DMV
who cut in front of me
in a line much longer than my patience
retribution so sweet
it would scandalize my mother

But does pettiness truly matter in the fall of mankind?

In my dreams
I’m throwing a molotov cocktail
can you feel it?
the salacious searing
when I wake
I can almost taste
the euphoric release
fragments of glass fluttering through the air

I rise to our slow
startlingly obvious demise

they say it’s about enduring
the age old slings and arrows
but where has that waiting gotten us?

I forsee the waves of grief
eventually crashing onto the shore
sea foam, the same froth that falls from impassioned
mouths, spilling forth a yearning,
                                                              a love
                                                                         a demand.

as a child i was obsessed with war
maybe I was just desperate for change.