I’m pretending to jobhunt. But instead
I wrote a poem about jobhunting.
Actually, I’m only pretending that it’s
a poem about jobhunting. But ooh look!
I’m not afraid of my picture anymore.
I mean it’s hideous, but look how
my reaction to it has changed.
I wasn’t sure why she asked me if I
was bitter. We were having breakfast
at a Korean restaurant and playing
with our YouTubes, playing with
our iPhones. Somebody sent a
song that was stuck in his mind.
What if asexual is what turns you
on? Or even worse, what if it’s
going through other people’s mail
from, like, ten or twelve year ago?
