--After Glenn Ligon’s Stranger in a Village #13
I think I’m with a friend I haven’t talked to in ten years. We’re walking on railroad tracks. My car rolled down a hill and we ended up in the snow. We try to reach the top of the hill, but never ask each other if we died.
I keep broken zippers because I believe I can fix them. If I can’t someone can. I keep a recycling can even though I believe everything just ends up in the trash. Sometimes I call people randomly and they think I just want to fuck.
People always assume I’m lying so I don’t bother thinking of things to make up anymore. I don’t argue. My vocabulary is too small. I don’t care who wins. Besides I know what it’s like to wake up scared. Fortunately I forget most of my dreams after 3 days.
I can’t be as confident as Maggie Nelson. I wrote about purple for 2 years. I never discovered anything. Wave is like a glass ceiling. But I don’t want to talk about her. She’s better than me. Most people are. I say this all the time.
I think I’m with a friend. But I know I don’t know this person. We are eating grilled cheese sandwiches at a cafe. We just were there. We never showed up. My friend I don’t know offers me a bottled water. I didn’t see them buy anything. The seal is broken and it’s still full.
I was fired from my job. They thought I was a child. I told my supervisor to tell me I was fired. She said she had to check. I was able to buy a slice of a chicken pot pie. I couldn’t find the gift card that she gave me. I only looked in the obvious places.