person Lee Patterson, two poems

Lee Patterson‘s poetry has recently appeared in Hobart, Queen Mob’s Teahouse, Entropy, The Airgonaut, and Unbroken, among others. His chapbook, I get sad, will be published by Ethel Zine in late 2019.


an essay about scientology

sometimes jaden smith’s dad doesn’t know
the difference between an alien or a robot.
he’s killed both, obviously, though never
at the same time. are there alien robots?
this is something jaden smith’s dad thinks
about on a weekly or sometimes daily basis.
would it even matter?
jaden smith’s dad supposes not.
these days his heart hurts from not laughing enough.
he hates that he’s never been offered the role
of the voice of god or won an oscar or tasted milk
so fresh his bones grew twice as strong.
jaden smith’s dad wants to be better in real
life—after the cut!, after his makeup is removed
& the publicity tour is over.
these days the only thing jaden smith’s dad is able
to take solace in is the fact that one day,
as his spirit keeps living, his body
will take a new shape. jaden smith’s dad will
always experience tomorrow.


an essay about process

a ladder falls from the sky. something should come
after that, like a ladder falls from the sky
& I climb it, as 1 tends to do when standing
in front of a ladder, & when I climb
the ladder there sits god, all 3 parts
of him, playing nba 2k19 on his ps4, mumbling
about kawhi going hollywood & the seeding
dilemma between conferences, & should the league
forego the 1-&-done rule, & really,
what constitutes goat status—rings? stats?
era played?—& will charles barkley make a cameo
in space jam 2? & this is where god pauses
the game, sets down his controller & says,
it was hinkie who died for your sins.
I nod as god swallows the entire preseason,
kyrie’s flat earth, christian laettner’s gold
medal, the entire los angeles skyline.


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