by Jerrod Schwarz

I watch the barista throw a trout over the sandbag wall. News crews splash by, pointing their cameras at a dead octopus hanging from the adjacent McDonald’s sign.

I check Facebook: pictures of a black lab burying starfish in the backyard, seahorses trapped in the chainmail of someone’s snow tires, and selfies with the nurse shark impaled on a downtown lamp post.

You glance sideways from your laptop toward the barista. He shovels kelp and muddy snow over the sandbag wall. “CNN is saying all of Rhode Island will be flooded by next April.”

“Do you remember paddle-boating across Point Judith Pond?”

The barista picks shells out of the welcome mat, and you close your laptop. “My parents said we can stay with them.”

“We guessed it would take an hour, and it took exactly one hour to reach the other side.”

You reopen the laptop, and a Zillow logo flashes in your glasses. “I just don’t think we can afford our own townhome.”

I google the paddle boat company, but their website flashes a DNS ERROR. The barista duct tapes a tear in one of the sandbags, and you get up to find an outlet for your laptop charger.




Jerrod Schwarz is the managing poetry editor of Driftwood Press. His writing has appeared in PANK, Entropy, and many others. His first mini collection, The Crop, was published by Rinky Dink Press in 2016. He lives in Tampa, Florida with his wife and twin daughters.




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