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You realise you haven’t eaten in days   Dirty dishes line the counters; your twin toddlers glitch in and out of their high chairs, mustering twin howls of outrage You give up; pass out on a floor slick with plumbing malfunctions Someone, as always, is watching and will come to your aid   Your husband is home from work but his pay barely touches the bills strewn across the front lawn Sometimes you wish for a meteor, or a swarm of bees Sometimes you think the only way out of this suburban hellscape is through the foundations, trapped waist-deep, pissing yourself into the cellar   Someone will make it all right; and anyway none of this is real: leading scientists guess we are ninety-nine-per-cent probably living a simulation   Against your better judgment, you pull up a chair and Play Video Games until 6 am   You realise you haven’t eaten in days