What She Writes About

She’s writing about gay people

And it really--

I don’t know what to tell her

I really don’t

I don’t think she has the right

And that’s--

And I know she loves gay people

I know she--

I mean, the way she loves gay people

Is kind of--

Ugh, I don’t want to say

It’s problematic

But, it’s like, intensely problematic

Because she talks about us

Like, we’re her pets or something

I mean that

I really do

It’s that, sort of, diminutive

It’s very minimalizing or--

Probably wrong words here

But you get what I mean

So now she’s sitting there

At this dinner we’re at

Telling me how she’s writing this book

About gay people

And I shared this look

With Michael across the table like--

Are you hearing this?

Because it just seemed odd to us

I could tell

That it just seemed

Weird

To the both of us

Because--

Who is she?

You know?

Who is she

Who is--

Who are all these people

Who suddenly think--

I mean, suddenly

Everybody can write

About gay people

Michael had that spec script

That he couldn’t get anybody to look at

And he’s gay

But this girl

Can just sit down and write a--

Whatever the hell she wrote

And it’s fine?

It’s fine?

No, I’m sorry

It’s not fine

We’ve sort of had this--

Uh, uh

Feeling?

In society

Right now

That, that--

That certain people

Can’t tell certain stories

But we’ve, like, not gotten there--

I guess

--with gay people

And gay stories

And gay people

And gay, uh, characters

It’s just open field

With gay people I guess

Everybody gets a crack at it

I mean, who is she?

Who is she?

To just be like--

I’m writing about gay people

Like we’re some lost tribe

Of the Amazon

Or something

She can write about

Whatever she wants

But somebody ought to say something

I don’t know who

But somebody ought to say something about it

Because I really can’t

Because, uh, if I do?

If I say something

I mean, uh--

Yeah

Trust me

You don’t want me

Saying anything

A Name I Call Myself

You have to understand

That I’m not white

To everyone

Let’s just take it off

Geography, okay?

Egypt is in Africa

So I’m African

That’s just how maps work

And I’m not being flippant

About all this

I’m saying that, uh

I got here, to America

When I was--what?

Nine-years-old?

So I already feel like--the other?

You know?

I don’t really feel--

I mean, I barely feel American

Let alone like a, like a--

White person

But, okay, I get that

I appear white

I get that

And I get that appearing white

Means I have some of the privileges

That white people have

But, objectively

I am--

Because, like, where I’m from

Is closer to Nairobi

Than it is to America

So let’s just keep that in mind

Now, here’s this program

That I want to get into

And they take twelve writers, okay?

Twelve

And I don’t get in

And I just say what I’m feeling

I go online and I say--

The program doesn’t have

Much diversity in it

And I get this really urgent response back

From one of the, uh, you know

Someone who did get in

And they’re Asian-American

And they were like--

This is so wrong

And I was like--

Listen, out of the twelve

There are three African-American students

The Asian student

A Latinx student

And the rest all look like they could be von Trapp’s

Blonde, pale, Scandanavian slash Mormon

Looking young men and women, okay?

And everyone in the program

Including the minority students

Is gorgeous

But we’ll get to that in a second

For right now, let’s just say that--

This Asian-American student

Thought I was talking about

Tokenism

And they were saying

That there’s no tokenism

Because, like, almost half

Aren’t white

But, like, don’t you think

That’s intentional?

Don’t they think they had just enough minority students

So that it clearly wasn’t tokenism

But not enough

To actually have people be like--

Wow, this school is actively

Searching for real talent

And real perspectives

And not just covering their asses

And then letting in the white kids

They really want to let in

Because diversity isn’t just--

Or shouldn’t be just--

Here’s this group of minority students

And then the rest are all goatherders

Like, what about the overall look

Of a group of people?

Yes to the minority students

But, remember what I said about gorgeous?
How gorgeous they all are?

This program is looking

To graduate people

Who can be on The Today Show

Really setting the world

Of Manhattan on fire

But not necessarily offering

Real life perspectives

Diversity should be minorities, yes

But it should also be, like, people with weight issues

With fucked up skin

With, like, bad teeth

And different hair colors

And ambiguous backgrounds

And Greeks and Italians

And Native Americans

And, and, and--

And Egyptians, yes

It’s just bullshit

It’s just total bullshit

They’re not making a difference

They’re not trying

They’re not even taking in the best people

Because the minority students they did take

Aren’t even that good

But they don’t know that

Because they don’t really care

Because they only really care

About the students they actually want to succeed

The von Trapp’s

And it’s a travesty

It’s a fucking travesty

And I don’t--

I don’t know what to say about it

I don’t even know

What to say

About it

Fluid

It’s just so annoying

Having to talk about it

Yes, he was married to a man

He was married to a man
And now we’re dating

What is the big deal here?

People are fluid

They’re not solid

They’re not gas

They’re fluid

And just because one day you’re married to a man

And you’re a lawyer

And you live in San Diego

All of a sudden

It’s, like

Illegal

For you to be dating a woman

And running a vegan bakery

And living on a houseboat

I’m just really over it

To be honest with you

My boyfriend wears aubergine ties

And he used to be some guy’s husband

What is the problem?
Is there a problem?
I don't see a problem?

And people are always asking him--

'So, are you straight now?'

And they ask it with like--

This scrunched up forehead
Like--

Like they're History teachers or something
Asking if you studied for the test

It's like they want you to prove something
And my boyfriend
Does not have to prove anything
To anyone

It's, like, not his job
To go around checking all the boxes
The societal boxes
That are, like, filled with labels
And, like, need labeling
The boxes, I mean
They need to be labeled
Because god forbid
We have unlabeled boxes
Because it's not like this
Is a democracy or anything

It's just super frustrating

My boyfriend and I met
And, after a lifetime of loving men,
He was like--

Hey!  How about this?

And I think that's awesome

Like, what
You've never gone your whole life
Not eating turnips
And then, like
Had somebody give you a turnip
In a salad or something
And then all of a sudden
You were like--

Fuck, this is a good turnip

Because I seriously doubt that

Stuff like that happens all the time

People are, like, totally uninterested in something
And then they, like, wake up one day and it's like--

I wanna make out
With a turnip

And who are we to say anything about that?

And, like, does it concern me?

Um, so many things concern me
But the fact that my boyfriend
Was married to a man
Is, like, not even top three

Top five?
Sure

But not top three

So please just keep your opinions
And your thoughts
And your prayers
To yourself

Because we are fine

My boyfriend is fine

He is fluid

And so am I

We are both fluids
Flowing through, um
Each other
Which is--

Sorry, that was kind of gross

But you get the idea

Love is not a rock
And it is not scissors
It is paper

It's, like, the best paper
In the world

And that's what I really
Wanted to say

Sully the Cat and the Bug on the Screen

There’s a bug on the screen

On the window

That’s just out of my reach

No furniture nearby

No surfaces to climb

Nothing to give me a boost

It’s torture

The bug is just…

Waiting there

Waiting for something

To put it out of its misery

I would try a running jump

But that wouldn’t be enough

I could maybe get enough traction

To launch myself up to the sill

But nowhere near

Where the bug is

He’s almost at the top of the window

And as soon as he sees a cat

Come flying towards him

He’ll fly across the room

Towards the other window

The one that’s open

And my Cat-urday will be ruined

I thought about coaxing the bug down to me

Using my best purring

Hypnotizing it

With my soothing

Rumbles of pleasure

And contentment

I imagined he would hear it

And think—

My, my, my

Whoever is down there

Sounds very satisfied

Perhaps I should go see

If I, too, can be satisfied

And then—

Wham!

A Mercy killing

That’s what it would be

Quick and painful

But quick

And maybe not painful

I don’t know

Since death is a post

I’ve never quite scratched

But regardless of the execution

The result will be generous

I can’t believe he’d want to go on living

As a bug, I mean

Who would want that?

Do you realize how small he is?

He’s much smaller than me

Imagine living in a world

Where you’re smaller than a cat

Who, in turn, is smaller

Than so many things

But intelligent

Also intelligent

Never forget that I’m intelligent

But also small

Not small enough

To sit on a window

Staring out of it

Probably wishing some nice cat

Would come along

And end the madness

That is

The life of a housefly

But still—

I’m very aware

Of my power and placement

In the world

And my position

Which is ‘Bug Killer’

Because bugs don’t really wish to live

If they did

They wouldn’t bother

Flying inside of houses

So that housecats

Can strike them down

In my lifetime alone

I’ve swatted twelve bugs

I ate four of them

But those aren’t my proudest moments

My proudest moments

Are when I’m up in the air

Claws outstretched

A bug trying to fly somewhere

And me, realizing their torment,

Ready to send them to whatever Heaven

They believe in

And feeling them between my paws

Knowing I’ve done a good thing

A very good thing

There’s not much you can do as a cat

Eat

Yawn

Destroy sweaters

But when you find something

A task

That you can accomplish

That really makes a difference

That assists one of your fellow creatures—

Albeit one of the gross ones

--It really makes you feel good

So here’s hoping

He comes down

Sometime soon

Help me help you, little buddy

That’s what I would say to him

If I could talk

And he could talk

And we could communicate

Help me, help you

End your terrible life

I guess until then

I’ll just sit here and wait

Sometimes waiting

Is all you can do

But I’ll be honest with you—

It isn’t my favorite way

To spend the day

Country Material

I’m not trying to worry anyone

I just think we all need to address

The elephant in the room

Kirk is our best-selling artist

And I think we need to speak honestly

About what it’s going to take

To get him back on track

I don’t know about the rest of you

But I’m not letting someone

With twelve number one hits

On the country charts

Just fall off the map

Because his wife

Made him give up his truck

Just because he’s driving a car now

That doesn’t mean

He can’t write country songs

But you would never know that

From the material we’re getting from him

These last few tracks he gave my office

Are, frankly, unusable

They are—in no particular order—

‘Where’s My Truck?’

‘I Miss My Truck’

‘Has Anybody Seen My Truck?’

‘A Man Without a Truck’

And—

‘Should I Divorce My Wife for Making Me Give Up My Truck?’

It’s like all he knows about

Are trucks

So I did a little deep dive

And it turns out

All twelve of his hits

Are about drinking beers

And talking sweet to a woman

While sitting in a pick-up truck

Now, I’m not saying

We shouldn’t be proud of those songs

Because a hit is a hit

But is anybody else concerned

That one of our biggest artists

Only knows how to write about stuff

That goes on in his truck?

At this point, I’m wondering

If he ever goes inside his house

No wonder his wife

Made him give the damn thing up

His last hit was called—

‘Picking You Up in My Pick-Up’

And I don’t know who he’s been picking up

But Cheryl says she hasn’t taken a ride in that truck

Since they were teenagers

Yup—same truck

Since he was sixteen

The man is forty-one years old

How is that thing still driving?

There’s gotta be something else

He feels passionately about

But I had my assistant go through

All twenty-two of his albums

And guess what?

Nothing

I mean, not nothing

But close to it

Summer evenings

Sitting by ponds

Strumming guitars

He doesn’t even play the guitar

We just photograph him with one

Every time we need an album cover

We gotta get him out in the world a little bit

Give him some life experience

He wants me to put a song on his album called—

‘Never Mind (I Guess I’ll Just Walk to the Dairy Queen)’

Now, if you think about it long enough

It starts to sound like a metaphor for something

But if you don’t think about it

It just sounds like some old guy

Going down the road to get ice cream

So he can cheer himself up

Because his wife made him get a Honda

Unfortunately, we can’t get him anymore life experience

Before this next album is due

So that’s why I’ve called all of you here today

You’re some of the best country writers in the business

All her assembled in this room

Hit after hit—

Best of the best

So all I need from you

Is some songs

That don’t have anything to do

With picket fences

Or barbecues

Or popping the top

Off a can of anything

Just some interesting music

About interesting things

That country fans will like

. . . . .

…Okay, fuck it

I’ll just buy him a new pick-up

And a cooler full of beer

Just don’t tell his wife