Those who came closest did not come close.
—John Ashbery
We learned to play that game. “Hello!”
we’d say. There was, of course, no
response. Meanwhile, we were decaying,
filling our bottles with poisoned and sedi
mented creek water. It was probably
irradiated, as well. How were we to
know? We were just the ones to whom
no one got close. When I say we, I do,
of course, mean me. It was just me here,
filling up my bottles, watching for the per
sons who never arrived. I tried to make a
game out of it. “Let’s count the minutes,”
I’d say to myself. “One.” Then a bit later,
“Two.” Then “Three,” of course. It went on.
