from AN ADVANCED COURSE IN BEING LOST
The foundational error, the trick: you think you can make do without the lemurs. You think there are only a few lemurs, and they are all the way over there, wherever lemurs live, or at the zoo, and so you think you can get by. Without the lemurs. You can’t.
The methhead chef at the sunset bar asks, Did you get those JVC mini-speakers I asked you about? and I say, No, that wasn’t me, I was the one you wanted to marry for a visa but, weirdly enough, I am still married and also you skipped the step of being nice to me first, which, call me old-fashioned, still matters to me and for once this is enough to get the meth chef to retreat back to the kitchen and do whatever it is he does to the poor blameless ceviche.
Tourists. Seated beside the ocean, facing away from it, asking, But do you have DIET syrup?
I dreamt tiny flags started popping up all over the house, on the floors and walls and ceiling, on the legs of chairs and people, tiny sticky flags, like zits or ants, like the stickers on bananas, and I had to go around rubbing them out, removing and erasing, balling them up between my fingers, trying to keep them from spreading, multiplying, doing any more harm. I woke up and thought, Well, yes, I agree with myself, but that’s not a lot of consolation.
I thought it was a good idea to drink these little bottles, one every morning -- but do I really want Dannon in charge of my intestinal flora? Didn’t I read something about the intestines and the functioning of the brain? Specifically, the feelings? Would I be better off investing in other bacteria? Do I really want Dannon so close to my mind?
Damn. The hot bartender must have followed the chef into meth. His big brown eyes now are painted brown, hard little balls in his head, and, man, but he is looking angular. Sweetheart, anything but meth. I know, I know, you would have stuck with coke -- who can afford it?
This is also why you must be gentle with yourself when you do (again, again, again) exactly the wrong thing, fuck up, act out, start drinking before noon. Accidents, meannesses, porn. Truth is, you are now having to make do without so much of the world, as well as with so much that is poison.
The foundational error, the trick: you think you can make do without the lemurs. You think there are only a few lemurs, and they are all the way over there, wherever lemurs live, or at the zoo, and so you think you can get by. Without the lemurs. You can’t.
The methhead chef at the sunset bar asks, Did you get those JVC mini-speakers I asked you about? and I say, No, that wasn’t me, I was the one you wanted to marry for a visa but, weirdly enough, I am still married and also you skipped the step of being nice to me first, which, call me old-fashioned, still matters to me and for once this is enough to get the meth chef to retreat back to the kitchen and do whatever it is he does to the poor blameless ceviche.
Tourists. Seated beside the ocean, facing away from it, asking, But do you have DIET syrup?
I dreamt tiny flags started popping up all over the house, on the floors and walls and ceiling, on the legs of chairs and people, tiny sticky flags, like zits or ants, like the stickers on bananas, and I had to go around rubbing them out, removing and erasing, balling them up between my fingers, trying to keep them from spreading, multiplying, doing any more harm. I woke up and thought, Well, yes, I agree with myself, but that’s not a lot of consolation.
I thought it was a good idea to drink these little bottles, one every morning -- but do I really want Dannon in charge of my intestinal flora? Didn’t I read something about the intestines and the functioning of the brain? Specifically, the feelings? Would I be better off investing in other bacteria? Do I really want Dannon so close to my mind?
Damn. The hot bartender must have followed the chef into meth. His big brown eyes now are painted brown, hard little balls in his head, and, man, but he is looking angular. Sweetheart, anything but meth. I know, I know, you would have stuck with coke -- who can afford it?
This is also why you must be gentle with yourself when you do (again, again, again) exactly the wrong thing, fuck up, act out, start drinking before noon. Accidents, meannesses, porn. Truth is, you are now having to make do without so much of the world, as well as with so much that is poison.
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