Unemployed, on the couch with half 

an Oreo in hand. The creamy half. 

I lose a follower and try not to let

my mood tank. The Mariana Trench 

is a kiddie pool to my mood. It’s easy 

to imagine why some people stay in bed

all day when you become one of them.

Today I thought of the novel Oblomov

and realized now that I have time to read it,

I won’t! I imagine how it might feel to afford 

a spa. My stomach can’t afford

another cookie, but it’ll try. My heart sinks

at the sight of a living tree—it reminds me

I’m not writing a book. When anyone

asks my biggest dream, my stupid brain thinks,

Write a book? I often observe my pet rabbit

and think: I live the rabbit life at last. 

Every now and then a little burst 

of energy makes me want to hop into 

a new career. I play out the imagined job

in my head to retirement—pass.

----------------------------------------

Stefan Karlsson (he/him) is a poet and artist based in Portland, Oregon. He received his MFA in Poetry from the University of California-Irvine. His work has appeared in Fourteen Hills, Sugar House Review, and Spillway. You can find him on Instagram (@nautiluspaper) or Bluesky (@stefankarlsson.bsky.social).