September 21, 2011 § 1 Comment
On my first day at work
I ate the sandwich my mother made me
six years ago.
The fluorescent lights made me lonely-
bright whites washing out,
with my teeth falling out
and my youth
burning a pit
in the linoleum floor.
(There should be a word
for wishing you were somewhere else.
We do it all the time.)
In the afternoon, my boss reminded me
of my mother, except I couldn’t
put my head on her lap
and by 5:00 I was hungry again,
wishing I had left half
of the sandwich.
There should be a word for that, too.
September 2, 2011 § 3 Comments
I am going to end up alone because I pee in the shower. And no, I won’t stop doing it even if you tell me to. I might lie straight to your face and say I will, but trust that I most probably will not. I am going to end up alone because I am a liar. No, I would never, ever cheat on you, or cultivate a serious gambling addiction under the guise of a late night Book Club, but I might slightly embellish my funny little story about how I talked my way out of a parking ticket earlier that day, for the sole purpose of making you laugh. Also, I will tell our children ridiculous things, like how the roots of all trees hold hands underground, or that the waves in the ocean are ghosts, trying to find their way back home. Sometimes, I may do this just for the hell of it.
I am going to end up alone because I like to take my time. I somehow always end up on the longest possible route to someplace, and to make matters worse, I don’t really mind. I love looking out windows, and into them, and getting lost in foreign cities. I am going to end up alone because I fall in love with the strangest, and most unglamorous, of places. Nothing is more peaceful to me than a giant supermarket at closing time, empty aisles that go on for miles on a rainy Tuesday night, and a sleepy man’s voice on the sound system, relieved to finally be going home.
I am going to end up alone because I am a Procrastinator. I have the attention span of a villainous guard dog distracted by a piece of raw meat in a Disney adventure movie, and am therefore not going to be the greatest adult when time comes knocking on my door. I am going to end up alone because I talk too much. Nobody wants to be around a story-repeater, which I have been called, or someone with an opinion about everything. Do you really want me to pick out The Boot That Most Represents You from the eclectic selection at a vintage shoe store, and then proceed to explain how I think the tassels symbolize the more outgoing aspects of your personality? I didn’t think so. I am going to end up alone because I am tone-deaf, and cannot sing to save my life. We will have no cinematic moments on cruise ships along the Mediterranean coast, holding our arms out before the expanse of summer evening ocean, bursting gloriously into song. Not many people can live with that loss.
I am going to end up alone because I have thunder thighs, and the fashions of the modern day do not suit me. It is anatomically impossible for me to wear Daisy Dukes and look good at the same time. I am going to end up alone because I cannot drink tea, nor do I like it. And we all know that all love stories in this day and age unfold over cups and cups of tea, or in trendy Milk Tea Places, over conversations about organic farming or Emma Stone, whichever end of the spectrum you find yourself on. I am going to end up alone because I do not like jewelry. Or the way it looks on myself, or other people. I will never learn how to be a proper adult, or Woman, and am therefore incapable of growing old with you gracefully, the way they do on Tatler or Lifestyle Asia.
I am going to end up alone because I am a sack of nervous energy, an overthinking mess. I second guess myself too much, and really, unless you are a pedophile (in which case I will not want you), who wants to turn to their lover at night, hold them, and realize that they have committed the rest of their life to a child? I am going to end up alone because I am a creep. I wear my heart on my sleeve no matter how many times people have told me to put it away, or in a bra, or somewhere more appropriate, like the bottom of my sock drawer. I smile to myself often, and write love poems about people I remotely like-like. I am going to end up alone because I have actually told people that I write poems about them. It seemed like a good thing to me, but apparently, we are not supposed to think about strangers too hard, or for very long.
I am going to end up alone because I cannot cook. In my defense, I make a killer sandwich, and am a very good cleaner. Your children could have been sparkly white and thoroughly disinfected. I am going to end up alone because sometimes, I like to do nothing. I like to just lie awake on the couch on Sunday afternoons, not reading Kurt Vonnegut or watching a culturally significant film. I like to just lie there, on my back, with my eyes open like a dead goldfish, thinking, thinking about thinking, thinking that if this isn’t nice, I don’t know what is.
I am going to end up alone because on most days, I feel too eager to be here. And we all know that the ones who get lucky are those who live life on posh, three-minute cigarette breaks, and throw away their pizza crusts. I am going to end up alone because I am a romantic, and learn my life lessons from melodramatic TV shows with bad scripts and good soundtracks. I am going to end up alone because I am riddled with issues, and secrets, and I will want you to have your own, so we can sit together on the edge of a great big lake and skip stones in silence. And when words are uttered, they will mean, and come from a core greater than the sum of all universes.