Friday July 21, 2017
from the sign at the 401 on ramp
Wendy and Adele try and stuff their pot into the glove compartment before the state trooper gets to their car.
“Stay cool,” says Adele. “Stay so fucking cool, Wen.”
The dark sunglasses slide down his nose, aided by the tiny pools of sweat collecting on the bridge of it.
“License and registration.” he says, his want poking uncomfortable holes through Adele’s ribbed tank top.
She hands him the paper and pretends there’s a wad of gum in her mouth. She bites her tongue not to address how he is addressing her.
Friday November 6, 2015
Overheard at Moii Cafe
Carmen is sitting on the kitchen sink, banging her feet against the cupboard to the rhythm that she’s humming in her head. Boom badoom, boom boom badoom.
Ely stares at her with a sideways smile and his head cocked to the side. He’s in love with her. She’s the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen in his life.
Carmen feels his gaze but acts like she can’t tell. She pretends to be in her own world. She likes the attention Ely gives her. She likes that he likes her and that she could be bad, or better, and he wouldn’t even notice. She likes that he doesn’t hold her to a particular standard. She likes that he isn’t like everybody else.
Ely wants to kiss her but hasn’t felt like she’s invited him yet. His body remains tense and leaning against the counter. He casts his eyes down when it gets to be too much.
“Are you afraid of me or something?”
Carmen’s legs still going, boom badoom, boom boom badoom.
“Me? No I’m. I’m not afraid of you or something. I’m. I’m not afraid.”
“Well why are you way over there, then?”
Sunday December 21, 2014
From an Arriva tube ad
I guess there’s that fear that you just won’t be the coolest person in the room and it keeps you from still being the best version of yourself. You know what I’m saying? Someone is always gonna be better than you when you care about people being better than you. Because maybe they care less and that’s what the definition of cool is. So your fear of being left out and not being the first person people run to when you enter a room is actually making you less and less of an attractive presence. Like, this is what I’m saying right? You have to stop giving a shit and just buy people a round of shots and bring the fun that’s unique to you. Don’t try to bring the cool person’s fun. That’s their job. They’re doing it. Let them worry about it. Just come in with a readiness to be interested and an openness to smile and shit. People love that. People don’t love people who scowl at the happiness around them because they’re unhappy that they weren’t just born with the cool pants and the cool hat or whatever.
Friday November 21, 2014
from an e-mail
Cool is the currency
Cool is liking that pink hat
Or… Is it?
Cool isn’t Celine Dion, he says
But when I was there
On the other side
The blonde haired dark skinned one
Low slung jeans
And sad eyes
Played My Heart Will Go On
With utter sincerity
Cool isn’t the painting above the toilet
Cool isn’t scrolling through your phone looking at picture of women in lingerie on Instagram
Cool is a judgement call
Cool is traded
Cool is coded
Cool is switched
Cool is that tree
Trees are cool
Friday September 26, 2014
Julia’s apartment research
Hi, I’m looking for this tiny little human? She’s the size of someone’s nonna but in a super cute way not a shrivelled way? Like, she’d be the type to put olive oil on her skin as a moisturizer and as perfume and you’d be in love with her because of it. Only this tiny human I’m looking for is not someone’s nonna, she’s just small like one. And cool in the way that she gave her last fuck away to someone who wanted it more than she did–the way you throw away crusts from a sandwich–like, fuck this sandwich! When you just don’t care anymore? She’s cool and tiny and I met her once and she was carrying this neon tote bag so I thought she’d be easy to describe but clearly you’re not getting it. Oh! And I’m pretty sure she’s a Scorpio. It’s weird cause I always seem to meet Scorpios and then right away I fall in love with them. I’m not sure what it is but something magic, I’m assuming. That’s all I know about her–I wish I could just draw you a picture but I don’t think I really even saw her face. I was obviously too busy looking inside her.
Saturday September 20, 2014
from a flyer for a yoga studio
They tell me not to join it they tell me not to avoid it they tell me not to come inside they tell me not to be alive
I waited till the sun went down and broke a flower’s petal. I had it in my back pocket when I was little and now I’m big. It’s been in there a long time. It’s been in there a long long time.
They tell me not to fight the fight they tell me things they cannot hide they tell me not to join it they tell me not to avoid it
I waited till the rain poured in and stole a flower’s centre. I had it in my front pocket when I was in the middle and now I’m on the side. It’s been in there a long time. It’s been in there a long long time.
Wednesday September 10, 2014
A man I can see from the corner of my eye has gone from one side’s fountain to the other side’s fountain back and forth for over an hour now. Sometimes he has his shirt off, sometimes he has it on. He carries a plastic bag with him so I’m assuming from that alone that he stays here most of his time. The first moment I saw him, he was drinking the water and wetting his hands. The second time he was dunking his whole head in it and pouring water down the back of his pants. The third time he washes under his arms. He must have been just trying to keep cool, but he seemed more obsessed with the baptism of something deeper–the purifying of what’s under the skin.
Wednesday February 26, 2014
Little Red Corvette
I called you up, I said Vroom Vroom baby
you told me I was out of my mind
I casually laughed then told you I was taking you out tonight
You shrieked a bit and then you were hooked
Where are we going?
And then I said it again, Vroom Vroom baby
You leave that part to me
You had on your jean jacket and you twirled in front of the mirror
Listening to Madonna or Tina
I had the keys and all I had to do was get to you
On my way over I remembered how you liked to bite my bottom lip when you kissed me
I thought about how if I close my eyes and lean into you, I always find your mouth
Or yours always finds mine
I felt cool with the hood down and the midnight air whispering through me
You were just a couple minutes away
And I couldn’t get to you fast enough
I almost ditched my ride on the side of the road
Just to run to you and make the wait disappear.
And then my song came on
The one you liked to sing in the shower
Thursday, October 10, 2013 at Joe Coffee
Overheard at Columbia University
Molly is nineteen. She wears a black leather jacket lined with sheep’s skin, light blue jeans and red Doc Martins. Remains of last night’s red lipstick stain her lips. Her blond, shoulder-length hair is messy and falls just below her shoulders. She wears many rings on her fingers, some sitting above the knuckle. Chipped white nail-polish coats her short nails.
I always think about listening to Led Zeppelin but I just never get around to it, you know?! I feel mad at my Mom for never exposing me to the cool stuff. She only listened to, like, John Denver. She was absolutely in love with him. She tells this story, over and over, to anyone that will listen, like don’t bring it up if you ever meet her because she will for sure try to launch right into it… She went to, like, fifty seven of his concerts or something. But at one, down in the East Village, she actually met him. She waited by the stage door and he finally came out and… his hand was cold when she shook it. That really surprised her, because, he was like, sweaty from playing the show or whatever.