If He Wasn't That Cute

If he wasn't that cute
Chris would find another guy
To make his profile photo

He'd keep him as a friend
An acquaintance

Someone to go to the club with
To stand next to
So that when guys eyes go right
They see dark, then light
And go 'Ohhh, he's cute--but ew, his friend.'

They'd end their nights
Under streetlights with him crying to Chris
That guys don't like him
And Chris would say
You'll meet somebody awesome
One day, you'll see

And that guy would be Chris
And Chris is, in this instance

But if he wasn't that cute
Things would be different

If he wasn't that cute
His Facebook Friends list would be lower
His text messages would come slower
His inbox would be lighter
And his memories of college all-nighters
Would be non-existent

His glowing personality
Would be seen as annoying, obnoxious, or just 'too much'

His sense of humor
Would be considered too brash

His affection would meet rejection
And any suggestion of an erection on his behalf
Would be met with a laugh or a scoff
Or a scowl

If he wasn't that cute
He wouldn't have gotten a second look from Chris
While sitting in that restaurant nook

Chris across the room
With two friends who'd survey the poor ugly guy
Sitting by the window
And say--

'Yeah, he's definitely gay,
But he's not that cute'

And that would be that

If he wasn't that cute
They wouldn't be the smiling couple
That you see out in the crowd

Loudly smiling
So everyone can hear

Cheering for each other
In statuses and tweets
And detailing how happy they are
And declaring they'd be that way
Regardless of appearance
But you know one day

The looks will fade
And Chris will take off
For a younger parade
Or maybe it'll be
The other way
Around

He's lucky he's that cute
They both are, for now

But the thing about luck is
It tends to run out

Cindy Spins Her Theatrical Career

Hi, my name is Cindy, and this is my resume.  Yes, they are all high school shows.  (I go to Progressive Prep, the most competitive drama program in Eastern West New Jersey.)  I believe in putting roots down in one location and then letting your branches grow.  Now that my tree is being ripped from the ground, or as the fascists call it--'graduation'--I've decided to compile my credentials and head out into the world.

Cabaret ~ Inga (The Most Important Kit Kat Girl)

I was ACTUALLY going to play Sally, but the director felt that I would outshine the guy playing Cliff, and I guess the guy who played Cliff was, like, the son of somebody important or something, like, somebody famous, or whatnot, so they had to go with a bland Sally, which is how they wound up with Cheryl, who's like, nice and stuff, but I mean, I don't know, she didn't really do it for me.  Everything who saw the show said I was the best thing in it, which, I mean, is nice, I mean, I didn't say that, they did, and by they, I mean, people who know me, but who are, like, totally objective, you know?  Anyway, I should probably just put that I played Sally because I would have gotten that role anyway and I was also her double understudy, meaning there was an understudy, and then there was a stand-by, and then there was me standing in the wings mouthing all the words to 'Maybe This Time.'  So, yeah, I was a really crucial part of the show.

Kiss Me, Kate ~ Elaine Scarlettt Brewster, or Ensemble Woman #5

Elaine was an incredibly fulfilling positive experience for me after the less than incredibly fulfilling positive experience of Cabaret.  Not that it wasn't great to be the strongest link in a show, but it can also be kind of isolating, you know?  All that weight to be the best thing in the show over and over again every night for two GRUELING weekends?  I mean, it takes its toll.  Luckily, I had this amazing show to head into after that stressfest of a less than incredibly fulfilling positive experience.  At first, I was just called Five Star, but then the director pulled me aside one day and said I should probably work on my character some more, so I gave her a really awesome name and decided she was being sexually harassed by the protagonist.  It really made me grow as an actress.  Playing Elaine Scarlettt Brewster just brought so much joy into my life.  I added an extra 't' onto the end of 'Scarlet' because I feel like her mother was an illiterate gypsy who died while giving birth to little Elaine on the river.  Makes you feel like singing, doesn't it?  My gypsy mother don't ask for no man's hand, all she wants is a kerchief.  A kerchief...of silk.  I just came up with that.  Are you amazed?  I just do that sometimes.  Songs like that.  They just come out of my head.  I'm going to call that one 'My Gypsy Mother.'  God, being creative is a full-time job, isn't it?  Anyway, despite my best efforts, I ended up being the best thing in that show too.  I keep trying to remain in the background and the world keeps pushing me forward.  Well, I mean, the world and the voice in my head saying 'Move forward and push that bitch Carly off the stage!'  Hahaha...Carly was such a great Bianca in that show.  I mean, her vibrato was wilder than a jungle cat, but you can't blame her, the poor thing.  Lovely girl.  I just, I mean, I didn't, I guess, you know, care for her, you know?

Sweeney Todd ~ Beggar Woman

So I played the Beggar Woman, which, was, as you can imagine, amazing.  I mean, some might think that being Mrs. Lovett is, like, the most amazing thing, but believe it or not, the audiences weren't really having Mrs. Lovett when we did it.  I'm not saying that's how it is when EVERYBODY does it, but they definitely weren't liking OUR Mrs. Lovett (again, poor Carly) and even though I could see in the director's eyes when I auditioned for him that he wanted to give me Mrs. Lovett, or maybe even give me Sweeney and make it a girl and do something really fun and interesting instead of the same old boring thing, I looked back at him with my eyes saying 'No please, I couldn't possibly take a bigger role than Beggar Woman' and then his eyes said 'But I need you to be the biggest possible role in the show because you're amazing' and I was going to say 'Well, maybe...' but then I sneezed, and so I wound up with Beggar Woman.  Now, I don't know if you know this, but the show was maybe, at one point, going  to be called Beggar Woman.  It's true.  In a good production, and ours was, like, the best, like, better than Broadway, like people who know people who saw it on Broadway said the people they talked to heard about ours and thought maybe ours might even be better--and in a good production, the Beggar Woman is, like, so the most important role in the entire show, and possibly one of the most important roles in the world of theater--ever.  One time, I sang a line, and the entire audience stood up and cheered.  It was, I mean, you know, it's just, I can't, but yeah, so, you know, I, I mean, sure my mom stood up first then turned around and flashed what some people thought was a gun, but was really just this squirt gun she keeps in her purse in case to ward off muggers, and that might or might not have been what got more people to rise, and some to clap, and some to just run for the door screaming 'Oh my God, she's got a gun!' but you know, it's just, you know, I mean, it was amazing.  It was truly amazing to have that impact on people and remind me that it's about the art.  Oh, and Carly totally lost her voice halfway through opening night and never really got it back, so if you're thinking of hiring her for a job or show or anything, I really would reconsider.

Please don't be intimidated by my resume.  I'm actually willing to start from the bottom if need be.  A star is never to big to reimagine itself as a planet or a comet or, like, that constellation that looks like a princess brushing her hair?

After all, it's all about the work.

A House on the Shore

We're going to watch it
Wash away

Like it never was ours
Like it never belonged to us at all

. . . . .

Some guy on the news today
Was asking why
Some people still build
Houses
On shores
They know
Will one day
Cease to exist

I felt guilty

I felt like he was talking to me

But I didn't answer him back

I make it a point
Not to have conversations
With my television

Instead I kept sipping my coffee
Watching the wind
Throw a beach ball
Back and forth
Across the road

That was when the power went out
And the water
Started rushing
Into the basement


. . . . .


I had already decided
I was staying with the house


I imagined the band from the Titanic
Playing in my living room


While I walked up the stairs
Pretending there was a bath running
In the basement


A nice, soothing bath


Nothing more


. . . . .


My husband's upstairs in bed
Waiting for me


Like Levi Strauss
Like a true ship's captain
He waits


The food in the fridge will go sour
But that's all right

We're used to sour tastes
In this house

Maybe it'll keep

Maybe the cool water will make it upstairs in time
To float the fridge out into the ocean
Where the food will keep
Until the fish figure out
How to open the door

Then they'll enjoy our garlic dip
And our portobello mushrooms

Won't that be nice for them?

My husband isn't breathing

He's holding his breath
I tell myself

He's waiting in eager anticipation
For the storm to come

Or he's practing, perhaps

Perhaps he's teaching himself
How to drown

. . . . .

I do some writing by the window

I describe what I'm seeing
To mark the time

Cars bobbing along
Like buoys

Whales dancing on the front lawn

Our above-ground pool
Becoming an in-ground pool
Then an underground pool

Then redundant

I take the photos of our children off the wall
And place them lovingly in the bathtub

When the time comes
They'll think they're just taking a bath

That's if the water gets this high

But it might

I have hopes that it might

I hope it takes the entire house

Hook, line, and sinker

Because why flood half a house?

What would be the point?

. . . . .

I lay next to my husband

We had some great times

But from day one
I knew
One day
We'd cease to exist

That's just how marriage is now

When my parents got married
It wasn't the case

You got married to someone strong
And stable
With a good foundation

And you knew
You'd last forever

Like a house on a hill

Above all uncertainty

But as time went on
People started becoming seduced
By the prospect
Of a house on the shore

We saw the hurricanes
We saw the rain
We felt the wind
Blow pebbles against our cheeks

But when the sun came out
We forgot

And so we built

We built houses
We knew would never last

And now trouble's here
And it's time to pay up

It's time to pay
For the good times we had

I lay next to my husband
And I take his hand
And the last thing I say to him is--

'It was worth it.  I believe it was worth it.'

And that's when the ocean
Comes to claim us

Our house
Our marriage
Our memories

All of it

Borrowed

Borrowed, and gone

. . . . .


We're going to watch it
Wash away

Like it never was ours
Like it never belonged to us at all

Helen and the Haters

Ew, look at Dee

Dee, shut up

Like, shut up, Dee

Ew, I should walk over to her
And be like, shut up
But like, whatever

Does she think that I don't know
That she's talking about how I was talking about her
Because she was talking about my dance solo
Like she had any right to talk?

Ew, she's a hater

I bet she swims around in Florida marshes
With all her alli-haters
Crying alli-hater tears

What?

Crocodile tears?

Ew, I'm not a zootrician
Don't be a hater

I love how she's hating on me
When she needs to be worried
About how her toxic personality
Is stifling her creativity

I know she's jealous of me
But, like get over it

Like, don't be so petty, Dee
And also, don't be so ugly
And also, I feel bad for you but I don't hate you
Because I'm not a hater, hater

She's like a master hater

No, I mean like expert hater
I wasn't trying to indicate that she masterbates
Because that would be so gross
I'd gag

I'd gaggggggggggggggggggg

Like a lot

Ew, she's STILL talking about me!

She must be talking about me
What else does she have to talk about?

I'm, like, standing right here

That'd be like if you were standing next to the sun
And not talking about what an amazing tan you're getting

I just want to be like
Stop being a hater tot

Did you see in her dance
When she had that slideshow
Of her and her dead mother
Camping in Maine?

Gaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaggggggggggggggggggggggg

I was going to throw up on myself
But then I remembered that's how Dee keeps herself thin
And I don't use hater dieting methods

Ew, look
They're leaving to go to practice

Later haters!

Who practices?

Like, if you're good
You don't need to practice

Like, I was born
And then I danced
And I was amazing
And then the end

Happily ever whatever

It's like a fairy tale and stuff

Look at them walk away
All hating us

Someone should tell them
How unattractive envy is

It's, like
The grossest thing ever

The Physics of Getting It Right

Pull up to the apartment
Look at yourself in the rearview mirror
Asses yourself

Hair?  --Maintained
Breath?  --Berry Mints, Double, Triple Up
Outfit?  --New, Picked Out by Several Gays Who Know More Than You Do
Teeth, Lack of Muscle, Bags Under Your Eyes, and an Overall Lack of Confidence?

--Too late now

Knock on the door
Wait
Knock again?
Don't knock again

Who are you?
Who would knock again?
Who would be that impatient?

Do you need another mint?

Take this opportunity
To inhale another mint
But suck on it so that it will dissolve faster
Because you don't want to have him open the door
To find you sucking on a mint
Like you're some kind of--

Door open
Girl

"Hi"
"Hi"

Roommate
Pretty
Blonde
Clearly about to go out

"I'm _________"
"I'm _________"
"Nice to meet you."
"You too"
"You too"
"Nice to meet you."
"I'm _________"
"I'm _________"

Stop

Stop this

Focus

Go forward

Don't let this happen again

Sit on the couch

"He'll be out in a second."

Nod
Answer her?
No, just nod

Keep the talking to a minimum
You talk too much

Do you know that?

You do

So why do you do it?

Why do you talk so much?

Never mind

This is instructional

This is about instruction

Tonight is all about the instructions
You give yourself
To make this
A success

You will be instructed
You will be inspired
You will not talk so--

'Hi'

Look at him

He's here

The roommate is gone
Has gone
Off for the night

He's

He's

'Hi'

He's

'You look--'

Did he say that?
Did you?

Try not to stare
Try not to smile too big
(Those teeth, remember?)

Try not to let him know
You are already
Desperately
Hopelessly
Crazy
About him

Say 'Hello'

Wait for him to hit lights
Fix his hair
Put on a new shirt

Make conversation
But please, let him talk

Take him downstairs

Watch the cold hit him
The new cold
That wasn't here
When you went in

Curse yourself for not wearing a jacket
That you could put over him

Realize that he's not a woman
You don't drape a jacket over a man

Stop at the hot dog stand by his apartment

'Do you have hot chocolate?'

Hot dog stands don't have
Hot chocolate

But this one does

Because this is your time, right?

Your time to get it right

Hand him the hot chocolate
Then open the door for him

Opening the door is polite
It's not a male gesture to a woman
It's just a polite gesture

Watch the road as you drive
Watch it curve and loop
Much more than a city road
Normally would

This is a reminder to you
That this, in many ways, is real
But that it's also fragile

It can break at any second

Pull up to the restaurant
Let the valet park the car
Wish you drove a nicer car
A car that doesn't require two minutes of instruction
To let the valet know
About all its quirks and oddities

Tap the break
Careful backing up
The automatic locks don't work

Don't concern yourself with this

He doesn't care about cars
He doesn't care about you being suave
He doesn't care about being wined and dined

Or maybe he does

But if he does
Then you're done
And you were done
Before you even began

So just don't worry about it

Try and enjoy dinner

Order something fancy
So that he'll feel comfortable enough
To order something equally as fancy

Start a conversation

Avoid talking about physics

If he brings up physics
For whatever reason he might bring up physics
Change the subject

Avoid talking about possibilities

The possibility that somewhere
Two men
Two young men
Identical to you and he
Are sitting in a totally different restaurant

Or not sitting anywhere near each other

In some situations
In some possibilities
The two of you have never even met

In some you hate each other
In others, you've already been together for years
And right now you're laying in bed together
Tracing lines down each other's bodies
Trading secrets back and forth
To see how deep into the other person's past you can go
Before it starts hurting

And realizing it's not
And it doesn't
And it's beautiful
And it's poetic
And it's stupid
And it's perfect

Snap back

Back to the situation
You find yourself in

Not the ideal of you laying in bed
Playing with fingers
You'll put on a ring on someday

But not the scenario
Where he's with somebody terrible
Instead of you
And you're in bed on a Saturday night
Crippled by how hard it is
To know he's going to be hurt
And not be able to stop it

To only be able to imagine other scenarios
Other situations
Other possibilities

At least it's not that

Be grateful it's not that

Watch him eat a giant piece of cake
And laugh at him in spite of yourself

Feel relieved when he laughs too

Feel confident enough
To rub away the spot of chocolate
Next to his lips

Feel strong enough
To make eye contact and hold it

Just hold it

Try to see if you can tell him things
Just by looking at him

'You're incredible'
'Give me a chance'
'I could keep you safe'

And what do you mean by safe?

If what you're trying to do actually worked
If he was able to get what you're saying
Just by looking at you
Looking at him

And he asked you--

'What does safe mean?'

What would you say?

Would you tell him you could pull together
All the different worlds existing
Right at this moment

And make one
Where it's safe
For the two of you
To be together

Without the danger of break-ups
Arguments, black holes
Evolution, other men

Would you tell him that your arms are like that of Atlas
And that you can hold it all up
With him on top of it
Without either of you having to worry
That it'll all come crashing down

Can you get him to believe the ideal
Instead of the real?

Is that how he'll be safe?

By embracing a different possibility

Where you're charming
And he's charmed by you
And something as simple
As chocolate on his chin
Is enough to bring you two together?

Let your other hand inch toward his
Let his fingertips mildly, quietly
Touch yours

Ask him if he wants to leave

Nod before he says yes

He says yes

Throw some money down on the table
Tip generously

Run out into the street
Where it's raining

In the rain, see colors start to wipe off
The buildings
The faces of people running by
The curving, crawling streets

Forget your car
Be bold
Hail a taxicab

Let him get in first
Instruct the driver
Instruct him that you'd like to go
To Boston Harbor

When he asks you which Boston Harbor
You realize this is coming to an end

The people in this possibility
Are becoming aware
Of the parts they're playing
And they're happy to play them
But they want to make sure
They're getting it right

'Which Boston Harbor?'

The one with the boats
The one with the crime
The one with the fog
The one with the opportunity
To jump on a ship
And never come back

Tell him, say--

'We just want to sit by the water'

And pull the boy next to you in close
As the taxi drives
Through the melting streets

Arrive at Boston Harbor
And pay the cab
But don't worry about tipping

It's not necessary now

Take his hand
And lead him down a few steps
To a spot where you can both
Dangle your feet
Over the harbor

See the circles appear in the water

Answer him when he asks you
What the pictures in the circles
Represent

'They're what could happen'

Be more specific

'They're what could happen if you get it wrong'

If you
If we
If this doesn't
If this can't
If we can't

Don't worry

He gets it

In one circle

Two men are lying
Next to two other men

In another
He's lying next to a man
And they're both much older

And then split down the middle is a wavy line
And on the other side is you
Much older
In a bed by yourself

'You look so sad,' he says

Tell him the truth

'I'm a little sad in all of them'

Run your hand through his hand
So that it's tricky to figure out
Which is yours and which is his

Feel how warm they are

Then say--

'This'

And look at him

This

This ideal

This possibility

The only possibility where this is

'This is the only one where I'm not sad'

Notice his mouth open slightly
Notice his eyes glance downward
Notice him understand

'But this isn't...'

Nod

'I know,' then, 'But that's okay'

Watch the circles open and close
Watch the ripples in the water go over them
Washing away anything that seems real

Put your arm around him
Put your face up against his cheek
Put your trust in him

'This could be real,' he says, 'Couldn't it?'

Feel the urge
The desire
To tell him it could

To tell him that in some other circle
He loves you
And it just hasn't appeared in the water yet
But if you keep watching...

'I don't think it can'

Oh...

You were honest

Well...

That's unusual

For this scenario anyway

And then you stop

You stop all of it
The way a mother might calmly stop
A small child
Intent on running into something

You stop and say--

'I'll take it from here'

And you do

And the instructions end

And something is right

Something has been achieved

And as it ends

It was

Exactly

As it should be

My Daughter's Reading Level

Kennedy is reading at a tenth grade reading level
Even though she's only eight

We've had her tested
By a very reputable tester
And the tester said
She tested
Like nobody he's ever tested before

Apparently she's so beyond the test
That they're making a new test
Just to try and get an accurate representation
Of what level she may be at
But they think ultimately
She's just untestable

She's already read the entire phonebook

Every page
Every listing

She particularly enjoyed the 'G's

She wrote an entire report
On how the 'A's differed from the 'J's
And that report won an award

Actually, they have to make a new award to give her
Because the report was so good
They didn't even have an award
That would accurately represent
How brilliant the report was
And ultimately, they think she's just unawardable

I feel bad for her sometimes

When you're that brilliant
It's almost impossible
To interact with other children

You see, to a parent like you
A child, your child for instance
Might seem perfectly intelligent
But to my daughter
Your child would seem like a potato

Like a dumb baked potato
With arms and some hair

It's a curse for her
Poor thing

Well, we have to get going

I have to pick up a set of encyclopedias
For Kennedy to read

She heard that 'Q-R' is a real page-turner

After that I don't know what we'll do

I suppose we could put her in a gifted school
But some of those kids can be so snobby
And their parents--Yuck!

Am I right?  Hahaha

Just being in one of those places
Can give a kid a big head

And that's the last thing I want Kennedy to have

I mean, as it is
They already measured her head
Because at one point
I was concerned that her brain was getting too big
For that little skull of hers

And wouldn't you know
They found her head to be immeasurable

The poor thing

The poor, poor thing

Oliver's Offended

...So then he brought up India

Like how the book
Took place in India

And you know, I was just offended
Because, I couldn't really figure out
Why he felt it was necessary
To bring up
That the book took place in India

So I said to him--'Do you hate Indians?'

And he said, 'No, of course not!'

And you know, I just felt that his response
Was rather abrupt
You know, borderline violent
And I really felt upset and intruded upon by him

And so I told him so--

I said--'I feel like you've intruded upon me.'

And he looked down at me
And I said--'What are you doing?'
Because I was worried that he was looking at my crotch
And objectifying me sexually

And he said--'I'm looking for footprints'

And I said--'Emotionally!  You're intruding upon me emotionally!'

And by that point, I was feeling mocked
And just completely misunderstood
And so I started to walk away
But then I thought--

You know what?  No.

No.

People need to stand up for themselves

So I turned around
Or, metaphorically speaking
I turned around
Because I hadn't actually started walking away yet
I just imagined myself walking away
While a choir of African orphans
Sang to me on my journey past oppression

I said to this guy
This oppressor--

'You may be judging me because I'm a non-believing Caucasian bisexual who identifies with the non-mainstream Inuit culture, listens to dissonant polka music, and occasionally makes out with poor pagan lesbian Libertarians, but just know that ultimately the only judge, as Nelson Mandela once said, is time.'

There was a pause
And then he said--

'I don't think Nelson Mandela ever said that.'

And I thought about it
And, in some way

I mean, in some petty, minor way
He was right
So I said--

'Well, he would have said it if he were here.'

And at that point
I was so offended
I actually did walk away

Or at least, I walked away
After he walked away

He walked away from me!

Can you believe that?

To plunge the emotional knife in that deep
And then just walk away?

Do you know how sharp an emotional knife is?

People are so harsh

Sometimes I wonder
Why I even talk to anybody

The Summarist

I should have been called the summarizer
But I didn't like the way it sounded

'This July, the only person who can save the world is...The Summarizer!'

I liked being a summarist
It sounded more breezy and...I don't know

Nice?

That's not to say
It was always
A nice job

It was at first
It was purely nice
But then...

See, it was supposed to be just movies

I was the guy who would write
The summaries
On the back of DVD's
Or in those guides you look through
When you're trying to figure out
What the name of the film was
Where Claudette Colbert fell in love with Don Ameche

For some reason, I was always just really good
At summarizing things

In college, my friends would be writing papers
About some book we'd been assigned
For a lit class

And I'd hear them saying things like--

'It's about loss and redemption and cruelty'

And I'd think to myself--

'It's actually just a book about a girl who can't find her shoes.'

Admittedly, I didn't get the best grades
On my papers

English professors aren't big fans
Of guys who spend all their time
Summarizing

But then one day, a few months after graduation
I saw a posting online
Looking for someone
Who was interested in becoming a summarizer

I called and they hired me
Right over the phone

Then I asked if I could be called
A summarist instead

They said sure
And that's how I became what I am

Like I said, summarizing movies was fine
That was easy

This one's about a girl who falls into a vat of nuclear waste and ends up with giant hands
This one's about a talking crocodile who has to solve a bank robbery
This one's about twin sisters who fall in love with the same guy

My job was pretty cut and dry

Then one day, somebody showed up at my house
And asked to be summarized

I thought I misheard them

'You want me to summarize something for you,' I asked

'No,' the guy said, 'I want you to summarize me.'

Now, before I tell you what happened next
I should probably let you know
That, for me, summarizing was almost instinctive after awhile

I couldn't stop myself
It was like sneezing

I'd look at something
And on command
I'd just blurt out a summary of it

This was all part of my job, of course
But it never occurred to me
That one day somebody would show up on my front doorstep
And ask for a summary of themselves

Nevertheless, when someone did
When that guy did
I looked at him
And before I could stop myself I said--

'Dull guy lusts after girl for two years until she marries somebody else and then he marries a doughy girl from Long Island.'

I slapped my hand over my mouth
You know, like a Little Rascal or something
But the damage was already done

Surprisingly enough, the guy didn't seem that upset

He actually looked relieved

I guess it can be kind of nice
To have somebody
Put your existence into a nutshell like that

I'll admit, part of me was curious
And when I could see that he wasn't upset
And he DID ask for the summary, after all
I decided to press my luck a little bit

'Have you met the girl from Long Island yet,' I asked him

'Not yet,' he said, 'But I'm in no rush'

With that, he handed me a twenty dollar bill
And walked away

I put the twenty in a jar
And left it there

I figured I could donate it to charity or something

Now that I was aware I could read the future
It didn't seem right
To profit from it

To be honest, the prophesizing didn't really seem like
The super skill

It wasn't that I looked at that guy
And saw his future

It just so happened
That in order to summarize his life
I had to give him a little of what was to come

It's like that way with movies sometimes too

When you're summarizing 'Titanic'
You kind of have to mention
That the ship's going to do down

Most of the time, people know their endings anyway

Unless your life is a David Lynch movie
You usually know where you're going to end up

And if your life is a David Lynch movie
Then I suggest you find a lesbian to make balloon animals with

I knew where my life was going
As soon as that guy walked away from my house that day

And I was right

People started showing up day and night
To be summarized

Not all of them took it as well as that first guy

One women burst into tears
And started hitting me
When I told her that her summary was--

'Woman loses everyone close to her only to take her own life by diving into a shark tank at the Blue Harbor Aquarium.'

I let her hit me
Part of me felt like I deserved it
That doesn't sound like a movie I'd want to see
Let alone live

Some people got nice summaries
But honestly, not many

Life usually does end with death, after all
And what I remember about Shakespeare from college was--

If it ends with everybody dying, it's a tragedy.

So basically
We're all living one big tragedy

One day I got sick of summarizing
All those tragedies
So I quit my job as a summarist
And moved deep into the woods

I lived off the land
I grew a beard
I only showered when I'd notice small woodland creatures
Running away from me

It was a good life

Then one day, I was fishing in a lake
And I looked down
And saw myself

My reflection, in the water

It was sort of like Narcissus
Except instead of falling in love with myself, I did it

I summarized

When I heard my own summary
It was like...

Well, it was like what they tell you would happen
If you went forward in time
And met your future self

You know how they say
A rift would open up in the space-time continuum
And the entire Universe would explode

Well, it did

At least, for me it did

I died

Right there in the lake

I'm not sure if anybody ever found me
Or if trout just ate at my body
Until all that was left were the bones

My summary didn't include
My post-life

I guess the credits rolled
As soon as my head hit the water

So what was my summary?

Well, that's the strange thing

It was long

It was incredibly long

Complex

It stretched around me
Like ribbon tape
And then went up and up
Into the sky
Like a beam of light

I took it all in
All at once
And I think
That's what killed me

I don't think my summary was long
Because I was some sort of
Mythic figure or anything

Because it wasn't just my summary
It was a summary of...

Well, of everything

And it was expansive in ways...

...in ways...

There aren't even ways to describe
The ways in which it's expansive

And why did I see it
Before I died?

I think it was because
It, whatever it is
Wanted me to see
All the things I'd been leaving out
Of all those other summaries

It wanted me to see
Everything I'd been missing

And then it killed me

I guess my life
Like all the others
Was a tragedy

But you know what?

I laughed

When I saw that summary
The ultimate summary
I laughed

Right before I died
I let out one, short laugh
And that was it

So maybe it wasn't so tragic after all

Maybe it was just complicated

Maybe all of it
Was just a little more complicated
Than I could ever understand

Where the City Meets the Sea

She comes out of the water
With her hair perfectly dry

After digging a little in the sand
She comes up with two red shoes
And a dress that fits her
Just the way she wants it to

As soon as she can't feel the sand
Underneath her feet anymore
She feels a little bit more normal

Like a solid person
Made up of cement
And aluminum

She stood a little straighter
When she got herself onto the sidewalk
And from there the steel drum music
Put a little something solid
Into her step

Into a club where the music
Matched the lights
On the sign outside

Pink, purple, bright, flashing

She felt black marble underneath her
And so her hair turned obsidian
And her fingernails grew a few an inch or two

People would say she looked like a witch
And that was all right with her


She was only here
For one man's attention


He was standing near the bar
In a bright blue suit
Sipping the last few drops
Of a poorly made drink

As soon as he sees her
He's on his feet
Meeting her halfway across the dance floor
With an open hand
That slides around her waist
Like a snake around the neck


Her fingernails go into his back so deep
She feels parts of his chest
Push out against her


Then they dance for what seems like days
Until she whispers to him that the morning's arriving soon
And the ships are coming in


He walks her back down to the beach
And reaches into the sand
To pull out a ring
She can wear around her finger
If she wants to


As soon as she puts it on
She's gone


He scatters sand
Over the place where she fell
And the water creeps up up the shore
To do the rest of the work for him


Then he walks back onto the cement
And up the side of a neon side
That tells him where he is
Right before he's on the roof
And further, and further


Inside the dancers ride the night
And some ask about the woman
With the beautiful black hair
And the long fingernails


And some ask about the pale man
And his bright blue suit

And outside the sky is covered with mist
So much so that nobody can see
The moon or the water

Just the light of one
Reflecting off the other

I Can Only Give You Ice Cream

Honey, I know you're heartbroken over this

Of all the things I thought Sal would do
Joining the priesthood was not one of them

Oh sure, I thought he'd cheat
Or do drugs
Or turn out to be one of those guys
Who goes swimming in dumpsters
Looking for antique clocks

But I never thought he'd leave you for God

And God took him!

I'll admit, I expected God
To have higher standards
Than that

Mysterious ways, honey, mysterious ways

Now look, I'm sure a lot of mothers
Could figure out some wonderful ways
Of making you feel better
About all this

But I'm not one of those mothers

I was prepared for Sal turning into a jerk
But him turning into a priest
Is just something
I was not anticipating

So really, I can only give you ice cream

Sometimes life gives you a really math problem
And all you can do is look at it
And say--

'Shit, I need some vanilla fudge'

And wouldn't you know
That vanilla fudge
Can usually do the trick?

Something about the way the particles are put together in ice cream
Makes them perfect
For problem solving

I read something about it
In Daily Christian

Although they said eat in moderation
Because otherwise you risk becoming a glutton

But they also said I should keep bearing children
Even after your brother Scooter
Was born weighing fourteen pounds

So now I take what Daily Christian says
With a grain of salt
And a shot of something
Stronger than salt

And ice cream

Honey, one day
Long after I'm gone
You're going to look back on this
And you're not going to remember
Your broken heart
Or Sal
Or why you even liked him in the first place

You're just gonna remember
Sitting in your Momma's kitchen
Crying and laughing
And telling stories

And ice cream

Take my word for it
That's the good stuff

That's the stuff that doesn't melt