In the car, I tell her that I had an idea, but that I couldn’t execute on it. I am weak, I say, without you. I have lost the ability to survive independently. I wanted it to be a surprise. A locket. Sterling silver. Petite little thing. I was going to prowl the antique shops on my lunch break, but I forgot and ended up getting a five dollar footlong instead. Tuna fish. I ate it at home, on the couch, reclining, watching HBO. I wanted to print a small version of the ultrasound, the one where baby looks like a little bean. I was going to fit it to size. “Mama’s first mother’s day”. Now look at me, an abject failure. There’s no way that I can accomplish the task in the amount of time that I have left. Mother’s day is tomorrow. I wouldn’t have gotten it done no matter how much time you gave me. I couldn’t. Not without your help. I’m dying. That’s why we’re having this baby. I’m fading into the periphery.  A watchful eye, reporting. Fingers for iris. Reporting the news to a strange crowd scattered across the Earth. Impersonal. Something for them to hold onto. A cautionary tale. Always get your wife a gift on her first mother’s day. It only happens once. You’re so worried about your first gay orgasm that you let it slip by. This is bigger than father’s day cards, but be prepared because that’s just around the corner. And let’s not even talk about your actual mother. I got her a card, but I have no idea of what to get her for a gift. She’s in Europe. I’m putting it off. I’d never do this at work. I’m more responsible there. Work is my life. Being off is death. I don’t want to do anything. Let me relax in the unrestrained freedom. I don’t even want to sleep. Death is too instantaneous in sleep. I would rather be aware of my resting than cherish it and fulfill it with life outside of work.

To tell you the truth, I like the ambiguity of my life. All the juxtaposed paragraphs. Give me more english lessons, and I’d go into deeper depths, but I’m doing the best that I can with the scraps The Lord’s given me, and I don’t have it in me to send myself back to school. It’s exactly what I mean, I tell Franny. That’s why I’m having a kid. That part of me has been transplanted. I’m going through a transmutation. I’ve taken enough acid to know that I am not the meat that you may eat, but the all of it working together a machine of the living soul. The ghost of the eternal box.

Nobody tells me anything anymore. The days go by. Latch on and let me take you through them. That’s what I’m here for. It’s what I’m good for. Give me a break. Let me tell you about the time the old man mime came in and told me that he couldn’t be offended by us. He pretended to be nothing but air. I knew that he was observing. Slipped into the periphery against his will or he’d shut up. He doesn’t have the same kind of release that I’ve got, though it’s right in front of him. He doesn’t understand that he can just let go and let that letting go evolves into a sort of class. An art.

Pass a torch this way, and let me writhe out my legacy.

You know how I get with words, says my therapist. You’re a dangerous creature bibles. Like to ride the edge a little, don’cha?

I know that some people like me, I say, clutching my fists and eyelids, walking down the cold, crisp, tree lined path in the morning.

Flash me through your pornhub glasses.

Who is going to impregnate this poor young woman?

I’ve got to start letting the world dress me. Choosy, handsy, little ass grabber. I’m starting to call slippers house shoes more often. I’m more into one source now than I was yesterday. One love. Fuck all the racism, sexism, homophobic, homoerotic bull crap. Don’t be scared of the homeless youth, and don’t make fun of the Mormon youth. You are neither right nor left. None of us know who we truly are, and I’m no exception. I may be exceptional, but I’m no exception. I get no exemptions. My back hurts like the rest of ours. I have a hard time getting off the couch. I submit to my wife’s request couched demands. I’m a pussy. I’m a bully. I’m going to be a bad dad, but that doesn’t make me a bad guy. It’s all in your mind, son. The light’s playing tricks on your mind, girl. Check yourself before you wreck yourself. We’re all slated to die, but it doesn’t mean that it’s going to happen. These are the best of times, they’re the worst of times. Consider yourself lucky.

It’s too bad cyber attacks exist. Ransomware is a terrible meme. I’ll pray for you while worrying about myself. Thank goodness I don’t have Windows. Times like these, it’s good to be innovative.

I intend to liberate myself, and I’m bringing literature with me. We are one and the same. You pay me one dollar a month, I’ll send you a post of your choosing quarterly, signed. Five dollars gets you the year’s worth of writing in book form. 25 dollars, and I’ll read in a location of your choosing. We can even hang out, because audience is power.

The gods need worship, and money is sustenance. We want to live free. Die if we have to. Die when we want.


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