The Dead Romantics

by Ashley Poston

Love was putting up with someone for fifty years so you’d have someone to bury you when you died. I would know; my family was in the business of death.

“You’re still skin and bones, though! What do they feed you in New York—lettuce and depression?”

“Miss Day, Elvistoo honors the dead for free.”

Lee Marlow ripped my heart out and fed it to the pizza rats.

“I drink the battery acid juice so I can go zoom-zoom,”

“Oh sweet chiseled Jesus.”