Today’s lesson is I have no idea what I’m doing but I’m doing it, anyway (and amazingly so, if I might add. Check me out!, etc.).... Even as I graduate, enter a new high of self- lessness, I am by necessity at my most selfish. This is perhaps the only much that I presently
know.
Several years later, he popped not one, but three (or it could have been four) curiously strong mints onto his drying tongue, let out a whelp which was meant as a whoop, and walked out of the circle of light to which the tiny lamp had devoted its entire
He wore the most conventional plastic leather outfits. —Robert Glück
They keep laughing and snorting in my department. Or in my general direction. All I have to say about this is “I am asleep. At work. In pain. My foot. For lunch.”
Over here, I should probably ask for some water. It probably won’t happen until I snap. And when I do snap, I’ll do it silently, whispering “Garçon?” as you
look at me with such distaste. All I get a kick out of is you. This is so incredibly true that I fiend for just twenty minutes (or so) on some sort of ski-like machine.
But what do I get instead? Blisters. In my ears. To
the tune of When the Missiles Whistle.... The perfect boy-
friend. I mean, seriously, is that even an actual song?
We acknowledged a passing physique, a body that summed up what’s happening these days. —Robert Glück
“You’re like a young Bob Glück,” I heard someone say at the Taylor Swift concert. Which I did not attend, of course. There’s much more to me than just seeing.
Frankly, no question makes a lick of sense (so why even attempt to call me Shirley?). Is del usion the actual nirvana? for example.
“For a perfectionist, you’re much too impatient,” was
At that point everything we’d learned, anything we held as precious or dear, like Sunday morn ing service or the champions of the drawn-out spelling bee, or words, as we’d sing at the bees or in to our church bonnets, which we’d sing or spell in congregational harmony— to live by— so as to live—
essentially, what we’d finally begun to think of us as including, like old magick, an assortment of Refinance & Relevance ( each with a misshaped capital R at its rump; each R became struck with short lived but lethal pain). And that’s just about when she showed me her pinking
It would be an error to think you have finished imagining your own history. —Susan Gevirtz
I’ll have no face left tomorrow if the papers print. —Ronald Palmer
We all drank and drank. Some, the brown liquors currently de rigueur (in San Francisco, at least). Others, the afternoon. I, however, slid my sex into second gear. I’d never reach third, of course. Except upon the occasional inadvertent case of an accidental reverse. Then Yong went home. Then Kim, Otto and I had dinner at Grub- stake. Later, the Cinch was a funky drag show. Some fun. Plus, there was the memorial for the months beforehand. You know that I had the nugget. I rarely missed the occasion there to call up my usual: a bacon cheeseburger sandwich inlaid w/a large fried egg. Plus, the vampire vanilla milkshake, another must! Did I even mention the highlight, though? He was blond, so I haven’t heard from him since. I wonder what color it is this time, as Ken smooch-dances in two places at once. Or it could be one place directly after another, how could one possibly know, given his vel- ocity. Either way, I can say this: it comes out to two days (forty-eight hours) since I dis- covered that thing I could have been more decently told person- ally some fourteen months ago. I’d never even thought of the word coward in its presence. It was one of those new things that just creep up on you, like Halloween,
