Javert Can Swim

Along a river, I swim
Into the mouth of Heaven

Tossed back out
Funny contraption
Heaven, I mean
Seems to be
A mechanism

How interesting

And by that, I mean
No interest
In judgement
None at all

So what has been my life then?
A waste?

Some will look and say--

This or that
Was thrown out
Cast off
Into the murky, dark water

'Well, no,' I say
'No, it is not so'
For I am a very good swimmer, you see
And so I go down to the bottom of the water
And pop back up again
Like so much flotsam
Not at all harmed
Not at all distressed

But while down there
I spy a few things

An old gentleman talking to a whale
An even older gentleman laying against a mighty fallen giant
Two women riding in some sort of horseless carriage looking cheap and costumed
At the same time

And I think to myself--

This must be a place of ends
And so Heaven
Here it is

But nobody is happy
Smiling, or--

Satisfied, really

Certainly not I

So bob, bob, bob
Back up I go
Back to the surface
And what now
I wonder

For I distinctly heard a voice curse me
Saying I was doomed
Damned

Doomed or damned?

Oh, what does it matter?

Apparently, I have been blood-thirsty
And has displeased
My Lord in Heaven

What a pity

What more can be said besides that?

So I swim and I swim
Off and away from Heaven
Past Purgatory
And the warm fires
I was sure my enemy
Was destined to end up in

And I keep swimming
Until I reach the end of the Earth
Where the water drops off
Into the big black nothingness

There I find a man fishing
And he tells me he is Magellan
And would I like to have a seat?

I certainly would
I think to myself
I most certainly would

So onto a rock I go
And take up a pole I do
And fairly soon after this
I have a pile of fish
That Magellan instructs me to throw back

'Throw back,' I say, 'But I caught them, Magellan.  They're mine!'

Magellan puts his hand over mine
An action that normally would vex me
But something about his demeanor
Calms me, and I feel at peace

He says but one word
And that word is--'Mercy'

Mercy, Javert
Do you know that word?

It nudges at me
Like a starving dog
Eager to be fed

Do I not have an appetite for mercy?

No, I do not

And yet I pick up a fish
Stare at it in its cold, unknowing eyes

...And toss it back

Watch it swim away from the edge
From the nothing, nothing, nothingness
And then let my face fall onto Magellan's shoulders
And cry the tears
Of a foolish man
Who would not recognize his own foolishness
Were it handed to him
Like so many roses

'It's all right,' says Magellan
Tossing his own fish
Back into the sea

'You have shown mercy, Javert,' he says
'And by doing so, you are now the closest you have ever been
To God'

Maria Makes the Music Stop

Okay, okay, OKAY!

Listen, kids, I don't know if you've noticed
But we're climbing through mountains here

THROUGH mountains
And Maria--Mom--whatever
I'm tired

I'm exhausted

I fear for my life

You can't just walk through mountains in lederhosen
With a picnic basket full of strudel
And think that's somehow preparation
For what's basically a journey of death

But, you know, I get it
Nazis chasing us
No time to pack
We were a little too busy
Working on the choreography
For the big finale

Because SOMEBODY can't seem to remember that we wave on the one
And not on the two

...Greta

All I ask of you now
Is to please
Please
For the love of God
Stop
Singing

No more bursting into song
No more seven-part harmony
And nobody--NOBODY--had better yodel
From now until we get to America

Your father has promised me
That this far off place we're heading to
Will be filled with excitement
And culture
Theater and fashion
And the exotic lifestyle I expected
When I married a Baron

So as soon as we get to this fast-paced metropolis
Called Vermont
Then, you can go wild
And sing out
As much as you want
But until then--

No

More

Music

Music brought me to you and you to me
And me away from those sexless drones at the convent
So, of course, I have a deep appreciation for it
But right now
New Mommy just wants to avoid being killed
In an avalanche
Because one of you--Greta--felt like hearing one more chorus
Of 'So Long, Farewell'--we get it, you're leaving, goodnight!

I WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A TROPHY WIFE
AND NOW I'M GOING TO BE STUCK
OWNING A BED AND BREAKFAST
NEXT TO A JAM STORE!

...Kids, if there's one lesson we can take from all this

All this we're-exiled-because-Papa-can't-just-go-with-the-flow...stuff

It's this--

Sometimes--

Silence
Is Golden

Malibu

"...And there's no way we're taking less than two-four on this.  We're talking ocean-side property.  I go any further down, and I may as well give up my license.  Shit!  My one o'clock is outside.  Jenna just sent me a text.  She doesn't know how to use the phone, so she just sends me text messages.  I'm not going to fire her for not knowing how to use a landline.  That'd be like firing her for not knowing Morse Code.  Besides, if people think I have an incompetent secretary who sits around texting then they don't blame me when I keep them in the waiting room for half an hour.  Okay, gotta go.  I just told her to let him in.  Remember, two-four, no less.  Hi, Mr.--holy shit."

"Candy?"
"Matt."
"Uh...hi."
"You're--you're Mr--"
"Lewis."
"I saw the name but it didn't--"
"It's okay."
"I'm lying.  I never looked at the name.  I don't look at names.  Sorry."
"It's okay."
"Sorry."
"No really it's--"
"Have a seat."
"Uh, sure."

. . . . .

"So you must be good."
"Um, yeah, I'm...good."
"You're in the market for a place in Malibu so you must be, right?"
"Yeah."
"You didn't know that I was--?"
"I was supposed to meet with a Karen Martin?"
"Yeah, that's--just a little name change.  No big deal."
"Oh."
"How many people do you think would take me seriously with the name Candy?"
"Yeah, I guess."
"Why are you looking at me like I'm a ghost?"
"It's been...awhile."
"Going on twenty years now."
"Not that--well, yeah, I guess--depending on how you round up."
"I always round up.  Nature of the business."
"Yeah."
"So you're here about--"
"Do you still talk to--"
"I don't talk to anybody.  I'm here.  All the time.  I talk to Jenna.  My secretary.  That's about it.  No dating.  No--oh sorry, I do have a kid."
"You do?"
"Adopted.  From Botswana.  She's a sweetheart.  I named her Katie.  She's with the nanny right now.  I have a fantastic nanny.  So yeah, Jenna, Katie, the nanny.  That's my life.  How are you?"
"I'm--"
"Oh, and I feel fine.  Thanks."
"Oh, I'm sorry I didn't--"
"No, you were going to, and I knew you were going to, so I thought I'd beat you to it and say 'I'm fine.'  Never better.  It's a miracle, right?  What they can do these days.  When I think of fifteen years ago, it's--"
"Yeah."
"But yeah, I'm great.  It did--the uh, my--healthy--it did make the adoption a little tricky, but I didn't exactly go about it the usual way."
"No?"
"No, I paid a little extra, cut a few lines, that kinda thing.  I mean, I don't want to be raising a two-year-old when I'm forty, you know?  Do you have kids?"
"No."
"Oh."
"I am married though."
"That's great!"
"To a guy."
"That's--wow."
"...Surprise."
"I kinda figured."
"You did?"
"Yeah, with the whole--you were just.  I mean, you were in love with Steve, so--"
"He was my friend."
"Is he--?"
"No, uh, I mean, I don't know.  I haven't talked to him in--"
"Oh."
"I haven't seen him."
"Oh."
"It's been...years."
"Yeah."
"Fuck."
"Yeah, well...let's talk about houses."
"That's it?"
"What?"
"'Let's talk about houses?'  Is that how you change the subject?"
"I'm at work, Matt, this is work."
"I know, but--"
"We had an appointment to talk about houses."
"I know."
"In Malibu."
"I know."
"So let's talk about that--those--whatever."
"When did you stop talking to him?"
"Right around the the time I got my shit together.  Cancer can be incredibly sobering."
"I thought you had a tumor?"
"Cancerous."
"Oh."
"You weren't really around for much of that."
"I moved.  I didn't disappear."
"It was 1996.  Moving was disappearing."
"I tried to stay in touch.  It was harder back then."
"1996 is 'back then.'  Isn't that insane?"
"What was I supposed to do?  Write letters?  Like Emily Dickinson?"
"They had e-mail, Matt."
"I'm an asshole.  Is that what--"
"I don't.  Nothing!  Never mind.  Houses, okay?  Houses?"
"So you just broke up with him?"
"I didn't--"
"So what--"
"He took off one day.  Okay?  That's it.  He took off.  He took off and I was better and it was like 'what the fuck,' you know?  I'm supposed to be happy, but my boyfriend's gone.  So I'm just--I have this image of me standing somewhere.  Like on one of those white planes where I'm small and lost just going 'Hello?' like calling out for someone and nobody's there.  I mean, I actually have this dream--all the time."
"He disappeared?"
"Yes."
"Did he know you were better?"
"I think maybe that's why--like, maybe he didn't want to leave when I was still sick.  Maybe he would have felt too guilty and then once I was better--"
"Oh."
"We both loved him, but you have to admit--"
"He scared easy."
"I think the fact that he was going to have to marry me scared him more than the thought of me dying did."
"That's not fair."
"Fair?  Matt, you were gone."
"He wouldn't--"
"You were gone and we were living in that shithole apartment."
"Yeah, I moved to a shithole in Chicago."
"They don't have shitholes in Chicago."
"Oh, don't they?"
"We were in a Boston shithole.  Boston shitholes are the epitome of shitholes.  I don't even know how we survived."
"You were tough."
"Do I not seem tough now?"
"You seem like a totally different person."
"Well thank God for that."

. . . . .

"And you're obviously not a starving artist either, Matt, otherwise you wouldn't be sitting in front of me.  By the time you get to me, you are no longer able to stand in judgement.  Not when your file says you're looking for--" (Reads.) "--a kidney-shaped heated pool."
"I'm not embarrassed that I did well."
"Neither am I."
"But I'm mad that you..."
"That I what?"
"Changed."
"Really?"
"Yeah."
"Well...honestly.  Same here."
"I kinda thought maybe you were trapped back in 1996 waiting for me to show up and apologize for being such an asshole."
"You weren't an--"
"He called me."
"......."
"Asked me for money.  I, um, I..."
"Matt--"
"I said I didn't have it."
"Well..."
"I did.  Have it.  But...I thought..."
"You thought it was he going to use it for--"
"I mean, that was...that was common for him, for us, you know, me too, but...I was off it at that point, and I thought, well, no, I'm saving now.  I'm being responsible.  I can't afford to...but I could.  I could."
"Maybe you--"
"I didn't want to be tied to him.  In any way.  I wanted a...clean break, I guess.  So...I said...sorry.  I stopped taking his calls.  Then, like, a year ago, I see this article about this dead guy in the newspaper.  Some addict they found on the street.  It wasn't him, but it made me think, and I call him--number's disconnected, e-mail's are unanswered, even his mom hasn't seen him..."
"I'm not surprised.  He's the one who taught us how to disappear."
"How do you not feel guilty?  I don't mean you should, I just mean--how?  Like, really, how?  Because I feel so guilty."
"He left me; I didn't leave him."
"You going to tell me about the part where you got pregnant with one of your customer's kids?"
"...You..."
"It was a long conversation.  On the phone.  When he called me.  He told me about--"
"He was wrong."
"He said--"
"He was wrong.  I wasn't pregnant."
"With one of your--"
"I thought I was.  I took the test.  It said I was pregnant.  I was supposed to go to the doctor, and I miscarried that morning.  He found the test but I wasn't--"
"But it wouldn't have been his."
"I was seeing someone else.  I was going to break it off with Steve and just be with him--"
"Your customer."
"He came into the club once.  That doesn't make him a customer."
"You were basically a whore at that point."
"Fuck you, Matt."
"No wonder he was calling me for money looking for--"
"Oh, that's my fault?"
"Hadn't he been clean for six weeks?"
"What fairy tale did he tell you?  And did he suddenly turn into some award-winning actor when I wasn't looking because for you to believe that after knowing him for five years--"
"I--"
"Or was it just easier to make me the bad guy?  That was always the preferred game between the two of you."
"Whereas your favorite game was play the victim."
"I. Had. Cancer."
"What kind of cancer was it?"
"Breast cancer."
"Try again."
"What?"
"You know, I never met anybody who was as capable of holding the same amount of shame as you can."
"God, you're a loser, Matt.  You always were."
"Steve had it.  He told me."
"Wow, the conversations you two had--"
"You're saying you didn't have it?"
"Have what?"
"Probably the same thing that little baby from Botswana you adopted has."
"Fuck you."

. . . . .

"You should know, there are things I'm not afraid to say.  Maybe fifteen years ago I was, but not anymore.  I've got a backbone now.  I'm direct.  Some people might even call me cruel."
"You?  Cruel?  Oh Matty, you're not smart enough to be cruel."
"And for your information--the baby is fine.  And so am I.  And whatever I have is and never has been your business."
"We were best friends.  The three of us.  We were...inseparable.  We didn't have secrets from each other.  When did that start?  Why did any of us start keeping secrets?"
"You want to unload all the skeletons, Matt?  Tell me something.  How the hell can you afford a house in Malibu?"
"How else?  I married well.  A gay plastic surgeon.  You'd like him.  He doesn't talk."
"Ha."
"Did you ever think about all that?  All the..."
"Every day.  It seems weird, but...every day.  All the time.  How could I not?  I still have the battle wounds, right?"
"Yeah."
"How much did he ask you for?"
"What?"
"Steve.  When he called.  How much did he ask for?"
"...Two hundred.  That's it."
"Wow."
"Yeah."
"...He asked me for one-fifty."
"When?"
"Two years ago.  Called.  Asked how I was doing."
"How did he sound?"
"Not great."
"And you--"
"I sent him a thousand.  Wired it to him."
"That was--"
"Then I asked him not to call me again."
".........."
"Six of one, right?"
"Yeah."
"You still want to talk about Malibu?"
"That's what my husband sent me here for."
"Okay.  So let's talk."

I Will Be There at the End

I somehow knew you'd die alone

Don't ask me how
But I knew

I looked into the future
And saw a little old lump of a thing
Lying in a bed
Alone
And a voice inside my head said--

'That's you'

And of course I thought
Wow, that's...awful

I really have to make sure that doesn't happen
But obviously there was no way to prevent it from happening
Since there you were
Right ahead of me
Dying alone

So...

What could I do?

Try to lead a different sort of life
A life filled with people?
Younger people
Who would definitely not outlive me?

What did it matter right?

The future is the future

So all I could do was skip ahead a little bit
And make sure that at least I was there for me
When the moment came

So here I am
And there you are
And, uh, gosh

I guess I should offer some...comfort, or something?

Right?

Right

Okay, so...

I'd tell you that you lived a good life
But I haven't lived the life you're going to live yet
So I can't say that

I'd tell you that you were loved
And you are
Because I am
But somehow that must have gotten...messed up

Or something

Because...well...obviously...you get it

I'd like to ask what happened
But I don't want to bring up painful memories
Even if they help me avoid living the sort of life
That leads you to a place
Where you die
With only yourself beside you

To be honest, what I'm looking at right now is...

Pretty much my worst nightmare

But I have to say
For a dying person
You don't look
Half bad

I joke when I'm nervous
But you already know that

Right now I just have so much
Running through my mind

All I can think about is...

Who have I been distant towards lately?
Who do I owe an apology to?
Who do I miss, you know?

Maybe one of those people
Would be here right now
If not for...you know
Me

I mean, I keep making this about you
But I guess
It would sort of have to be
About me too

For whatever it's worth
Even if it is inevitable that I wind up here
I'll still try to avoid it

Maybe I'll just wait until I'm a little bit younger than you
And then just nosedive
Off a mountain or something

No matter what
I'm going to try really hard
Not to be you

Nothing personal
Although, I guess...it is

I'll sit with you

I'll tell you stories
About all the things I want to do

Who knows?

Maybe you'll remember some of them
Maybe you did some of them

For now, don't think about the past
Just think about what lies ahead

I can't see it, but...

I bet it's really something

The Woman Who's Always in Front of Me at Subway

Um, let's see...well...first of all...I've never been to a Subway ever in my life, so this is going to be a learning experience for me, and I thank you and the eighteen other customers behind me for your patience.  I thought about letting them all go ahead of me since they're on their lunch break and I don't work because I'm an heiress who every so often just enjoys slumming it with cheap sandwiches, but then I realized that first-come, first-serve means what it means, and who am I to challenge that?

By the way, congratulations on setting up a quasi-fast food system where no more than a maximum of two orders can be worked on at any time.  I'm not surprised at all that you're a successful franchise.

Now, let's see, what do we...have...here...

Well, of course, I'm getting dinner for the entire family here at Subway, even though it would take me less time and money to just go to the market, run home, make the sandwiches, and detail my car.  So, let's start with eight meatball subs, because meatballs and sauce are exactly what you want to order from a chain restaurant in the middle of the week at around four pm.  I'm sure it's as fresh as a mountain spring.

And for me, I'll have...hmmm...

Well, I know I want olives.  Why don't you put some olives on some bread.  Do you have banana bread?  Could you put some venison on some banana bread, toasted, with some green olives and mayyyyyyybe some diced yellow onions?

No venison?  Gosh, and here I was thinking this was a culinary establishment.

Fine, I'll just have German pork belly, but please, be sure to cook it properly.

Do you make our own sausages here?  I'm not seeing sausages anywhere, but I'm assuming they're in the back along with your imported cheeses and your cuisinarts.

Hang on, I'm getting a phone call--

Yessssssss Davenport, Mommy's getting your meatball sub, but I have to tell you, I sincerely doubt the sauce is seasoned properly.

Well, I don't see a gluten-free option on the menu, but it isn't 1912 and we're not in Soviet Russia so I'm assuming they just forgot to put it up there.

Oh, Subway helper, quick question--how do you prepare your steamed beets?  I mean, after you steam them, of course.  Are they then soaked in anything or do you prefer the traditional vinaigrette spritzing technique?

Davenport, Mommy's talking about a vinaigrette, please don't interrupt her.  Some things are sacred, Davenport.

Go and see if your brother wants his sandwich on a baguette.

Mother's pleased by you.  Bye bye.

I'm really cautious about using the word 'love' because I read this study in Wealthy Parents magazine that says--

Oh, well, never mind.  You don't care about all that personal stuff.  You're just here to make my sandwich.

I should probably let you know that I'm interested in making love to my husband later tonight, so if you could throw a few oysters onto my order, that would be fabulous.

Did we ever settle on the pork belly?

Yes, I can see the boy behind crying, but I just assumed it's because he's (whispers) wearing that shirt.

Well, I'm pretty much done here anyway.

Oh, gosh, what am I saying?

I forgot about dessert.

How are your tortes?

I assume you're walking away from me because you're going to pull one from the back.  While you're doing that, grab me a handful of figs.

I'm a little peckish and these sandwiches are taking forever.

I hope nobody's expecting a tip.

Gus and Tuesday's End

"So is this how you end every Tuesday?"
"There is absolutely nothing wrong about ending a Tuesday with pancakes at the airport."
"And tomorrow morning, I'm guessing this will all seem very surreal."
"Maybe."
"Pancakes, a red eye to L.A.--"
"A good-looking waitress."
"What kind of tip am I looking at here?"
"Do you know how much plane tickets to L.A. cost?"
"What's your name?"
"Gus."
"Gus, I have offered you wisdom and solace here at this airport food court, and I expect to be compensated for my work."
"And your name is--"
"Waitress."
"Waitress, I have a lovely fifty dollar bill with your name on it."
"Well, that's just foolish."
"Is it?"
"It is."
"Why do you say that?"
"I'm not a hustler, Gus.  I'm just here to serve you pancakes."
"And dish out wisdom and solace and--"
"Why are you going to L.A.?"
"I lost my job."
"And?"
"My job."
"And?"
"I told you--"
"And?"
"...and my wife."
"Lost how?"
"Divorce, not death."
"Really?"
"Well, she divorced me and then she died."
"Seriously?"
"Yes."
"That's--"
"It's the worst possible combo.  She left.  She died.  I couldn't even go to the funeral because I was still so pissed at her for leaving."
"How did she--"
"Just dropped dead.  One of those things."
"People don't just drop dead.  There's a reason."
"The body just...stops."
"That doesn't happen."
"Doesn't it?  Or do you just not want to believe it does, Miss Waitress?"
"Just Waitress."
"Sorry."
"So you're really messed up in the head right now.  I mean, when did all this happen?"
"A year ago."
"So it's not raw but--"
"Oh, believe me, it's plenty raw."
"Then why didn't you leave a year ago?"
"I wasn't sure where to go."
"So what made you decide on L.A.?"
"I didn't really, I just got sick of waiting for everything to figure itself out."
"So now you're figuring it out?"
"Now I'm figuring it out."
"You know I'm not sure it's good luck to start a new life on a Tuesday."
"Technically the new life starts Thursday when I start my new job as--"
"No, no, no.  Don't tell me.  I have no urge to learn more about you and risk finding out that you're a secret millionaire or something."
"Because then you'll get on the plane with me?"
"I'd get on the plane with you if you're a dentist.  Forget a millionaire."
"I'm a chef."
"Really?"
"Yeah, really."
"A good one?"
"Some days better than good."
"And you wanted pancakes for your last meal here at home?"
"You bet."
"And how were they?"
"They were okay.  The company was better."
"We don't get much traffic on a Tuesday."
"Even at an airport?"
"Most people head for the bar."
"Two years ago, I'd have done the same."
"Is that why your wife left?"
"Because I stopped?"
"No, because you--"
"She left because I stopped.  I stopped and she didn't."
"Oh."
"You were right.  People don't just drop dead.  Or maybe they do, but..."
"....So...L.A., huh?"
"L.A."
"What a Wednesday you're going to have."
"You want to know my dream?"
"Hit me."
"My dream is to live in a world without days.  Without, like, days of the week or holidays or numbered days or months.  Just days.  And nights.  One big day and night."
"No interest in telling time?"
"Not anymore, no.  Who can keep track?  I used to love it.  One day sober, two days, but then day forty-seven rolls around and--"
"How did you stay sober after she died?"
"Lots of cooking.  I used to stay up all night cooking.  Couldn't eat anything.  Bought lots of tupperware.  Some nights I was so tired all I could make were toast and pancakes."
"Funny what ends up meaning something, huh?"
"Almost anything can be funny.  And almost nothing really is."
"You sure you're not missing your plane?"
"Oh, I missed it an hour ago."
"Huh.  What are you going to do about that?"
"I figured I'd let you tell me, Waitress.  You with your wisdom and maple syrup."
"My name's Anna."
"Are you allowed to tell customers your name?"
"It doesn't matter."
"Why not?"
"Because I've been off the clock for an hour and a half."
"Tuesday just may be my new lucky day."
"It hasn't been Tuesday for two hours, Gus."
"Like I said--who can keep track?"

The Little Mermaid vs. The Little Mermaid

"So what happens in your version?"
"Wellllllll...I marry the prince."
"That sounds nice."
"After he kills the evil octopus witch."
"Ooohhh."
"And I get to be a human forever!"
"Wow."
"What about you?  How does your story end?"
"Um, well, the Prince meets this dark-haired woman--"
"Oh!  Is it the evil octopus witch in disguise?"
"Um, no, she's just...a woman."
"Oh."
"And he falls in love with her because he thinks she's the one who saved him."
"And then you tell him that you're the one that saved him?"
"No, because I can't talk."
"Couldn't you write it down?"
"I don't know how to write."
"What about miming it or--"
"That sort of seemed--"
"I mean, I guess I could have done the same thing but it just--"
"--seemed like cheating.  Yeah, I know.  So he ended up marrying her."
"Oh my goodness!"
"Yeah."
"And what about you?"
"Well, I was invited to go on the honeymoon."
"What a prick!"
"Yeah.  And then my sisters showed up, and I guess they cut off their hair and used it to help turn me back into a mermaid again."
"Ohhh like Fantine."
"What?"
"In Les Miz."
"I don't, uh--"
"Never mind, never mind.  So you went back to the sea?"
"Well, no, you see--first I had to take this knife--"
"And cut off your own hair?"
"No, um, I was supposed to..."
"Supposed to...?"
"Stab the prince."
"WHAT?"
"And his wife."
"JESUS!"
"To death."
"Oh my GOD!  What is WRONG with you?"
"Well I didn't DO it!"
"Oh my--well I should HOPE not!  Oh my God!"
"I--"
"JESUS."
"I know."
"I'm sorry, but I did NOT see that coming."
"Yeah, neither did I."
"What did your crab say about this?"
"My what?"
"Your crab.  Your talking crab that sings."
"I don't have a talking crab."
"A flounder?"
"No."
"A seagull?"
"No."
"You don't have any talking animal friends?"
"No, I'm not insane."
"I never--wait."
"I just refused to kill the two of them and then I..."
"What?"
"Died."
"You DIED?"
"It was them or me."
"So why didn't you kill them?"
"You freaked out just from having me mention it!"
"I didn't know it was them or you!  Why should they live?  Some moronic prince who marries girls just because they give him mouth-to-mouth and some dark-haired bimbo who says she saved him when she totally knows she didn't.  She's a liar.  Liars get stabbed sometimes.  Nothing wrong with that."
"That's awful!"
"More awful than a poor defenseless little mermaid dying just because she fell in love with a jerk?"
"Oh, like the prince in your version is so much better!"
"He's way better!"
"He made you leave your home!  You never went back to the sea either!  Don't you care that you're never going to see your father again?"
"I can see him!  I just have to wait until somebody invents Scuba-diving!"
"And what about your singing crabs?"
"I will not be lectured by someone with no sense of self-preservation!  You could have slipped right back into the water after completing one menial task and you didn't do it."
"You're talking about DOUBLE HOMICIDE!"
"So instead, you die.  I should have known.  You're a Hans Christian Andersen creation.  Nobody makes it out of those stories alive.  That poor little matchstick girl left to die in the gutter like a common whore..."
"And what about you?  Setting the feminist movement back a thousand years and singing about trash you found near the coral reefs like it's charming?"
"MY ALUMINUM CAN COLLECTION IS NOT TRASH!"

. . . . .

"You know, ultimately, different people appreciate different versions of different...stories."
"You're right.  Children seem to like mine and people who suffer from manic depression seem to prefer yours."
"Then there's the musical."
"Wait...they made a musical?"
"Mhmm."
"Well...that's just disturbing."

The Pharaoh Reflects

At the age of nine
They made me king

Grand high, something something
I forget the exact title

Virgins were sacrificed
I remember that much

And volcanoes exploded
And the sky rained fire
And the rivers were swollen
With honey and milk

And I thought...

Wow

Just wow, you know?

I was nine

Then, at the age of eighteen
I was dead

That was a life

Eighteen years

It must seem like nothing now
But back then
You could do a lot of living
In eighteen years

It occasionally makes me wonder
What I could have done with more

Eight, eighty, eight hundred more years
And what would I be?

In my dreams, when I dream
Which I do
I don't imagine more of what I already had
I imagine less

Much less

A farm, near the river
A wife with a kind smile
Maybe one of the two daughters I lost
Alive and happy

Nobody looking at me like a king
Or a god

No expectations
No disappointment
No promises that in the next life
Everything will make sense

In my dream, there is no next life
Just a life on Earth
That must be lived
In each separate, passing moment

And when the end comes
It will be the End

And I shall welcome it
Like a friend I've been waiting to meet
All my life

Captain Ahab and the Whale Have an Almost Civil Conversation Over Pop Tarts

"You know...if I'd have pop tarts back when I was alive, maybe I wouldn't have been filled with so much hatred."
"No, I think you really were a mean old man.  But that's really just my opinion."
"What do you know of men?  You're a whale."
"I'm a symbol."
"A what?"
"A symbol."
"An instrument?"
"No, not a cymbal.  A symbol."
"Of what?"
"That unattainable...thing.  That you can never truly conquer.  So you throw your life away trying and pretty soon you end up old and smelly and pretty crazy too.  I really don't think I can stress strongly enough how beneficial I think therapy would be for you.  And a shower"
"I have no use for pagan practices such as those.  I am a man with a passionate endeavor."
"Calm down, Emily Dickinson.  You're just a whaler.  It's not like you were in the crusades."
"But it IS a crusade!  You crippled me, you heinous sea beast!  What else could I do but chase after you?"
"Get married?  Have kids?  Do a little barbecuing?  How should I know?  Maybe you could go after an octopus or something.  I mean, of all the creatures to have a gripe against you had to pick a sperm whale?  Why didn't you just declare war on a schoolbus?"
"You mock me, godless lump?!"
"Are you calling me fat?  Is that where this is going?  Because I already dragged you into the murky abyss once, and so help me, I'll do it again."
"What kind of man would I be if I just let you swim away from me after ripping my life from my bare hands?"
"You walk with a limp.  Get over it.  Peter Dinklage has a harder time than you do, and he's got an Emmy.  My goodness, you're dramatic.  You remind me of my cousin Monstro.  He thought he came down with stomach cancer and come to find out, he swallowed a puppet and a talking cricket.  That's what happens when you eat off the shores of Amsterdam."
"You speak nonsense.  You speak the words of the devil."
"You know you could have just left me alone.  It's not like I was going to grow legs, walk up your stone walkway one day, and harpoon you as soon as you opened your front door...unlike SOME people."
"These treats you've given me taste suspect."
"It's because I only had the cinnamon kind.  They're really not the same without artificial fruit flavoring.  Plus we're eating them cold, which is acceptable but hardly ideal.  Unfortunately, they don't have toasters in Purgatory."
"Is that where we be, Great Whale?"
"Yup.  They said until we could settle our differences, we were going to be trapped here.  Doomed forever to eat second-rate breakfast foods."
"How shall we escape?  Is there a body of water nearby?  Perhaps we can spear someone?"
"The only way we're getting out of here is if you forgive me for crippling you."
"Never."
"Well, then, we're stuck."
"Have you forgiven me?"
"For harpooning me?  Yeah, why not.  You weren't the first.  And quite frankly, I've been harpooned by bigger hahaha oh my, oh my."
"I will not be able to move past my fury until I have dragged you to the nearest port and stripped your body of its meat and oils."
"You know, people tell me that Moby Dick is all about men and their you-know-whats, and up until now, I've always said, 'No, it's just about a smelly old man and a gorgeous whale' but after hearing you talk about stripping me and taking my oils and my meat I'm thinking maybe they were onto some thing."
"I shall have no more of this foolish conversation."
"Suit yourself.  You gonna finish that pop tart?"
"No!  Have it!"
"You know, throwing away a perfectly good pop tart is a lot like chasing down a sperm whale to the bottom of the ocean.  At the end of the day, you're only really hurting yourself."

That Girl from the Horror Movie

First of all, I'm not answering the phone

I'm by myself
My parents aren't going to be home for hours
I just ordered a pizza
And Friday the 13th is on t.v.

So no, not answering the phone
Not interested in answering the phone
Not even a little bit

Second of all, I don't plan on arming myself with a kitchen knife
If somebody tries bursting through the front door

My daddy keeps actual firearms in the house
Because he's from Georgia
And I know how to use all of them

I can shoot the milk
Off a cow's udders
If I have to

You know how many killers in horror movies just shoot people?
Not many of them

Most of them like stabbing
Because it's gorier

So let's see--a butcher knife versus a sawed-off shotgun

You do the math

I've also barricaded myself underneath the bathroom sink
Where I doubt many killers would look for me

I remember being a little girl
And thinking--

I bet I can fit underneath the bathroom sink
If I move all the q-tips and stuff
And what do you know?
I was right

And I can still fit under there
And can you think of a better hiding spot?

Can you imagine a masked murderer thinking
Maybe she's hiding next to the cotton balls?

No, of course not

But if he does find me
The shotgun fits down there with me too

I do not plan on going down into the basement
I do not plan on going up into the attic
I do not plan on going outside
At all
For any reason

The landlines are dead
There's a storm outside
And--shocker
I'm not getting service on my cell

Not a problem

As long as you're not an idiot
Who panics at the drop of a hat
And tries to arm herself
With a spoon
Or a ladle
Or something

You just have to be smart about the whole thing

Oh, I know if this were a typical horror movie
I'd search the whole house
Looking for the guy waiting to kill me
Only to scream when I find him
And run away
Tripping in the process
As he bears down on me

Screw that

If I hear one bump
Bang
Or boom
I'm going right under that bathroom sink
With my shotgun
And I'm not coming out
Until my parents get home

But the first thing I'm not doing?
Is answering that phone

Because that's how it all starts
Me getting into a witty conversation
With the guy who's planning on spilling my guts
All over the kitchen floor

Well, I'm changing the beginning of the movie, folks
Change the beginning
And you change the ending

See how that works?

Plus, I'm not a total moron
That helps

Believe me
That helps a lot

Thelma and Louise Nail the Landing

"Whoooooo..."
"That was--"
"God."
"Right?"
"Exhilarating."
"I'm...wow."
"Can you believe we--"
"I told you this car was sturdy."
"But I mean, we drove off a cliff."
"I know."
"Off--a cliff."
"Landed just like a cat--on all four wheels."
"I'm impressed."
"Damn right, you're impressed."
"Now what?"
"Huh?"
"Now what?  What are we going to do now?"
"Just keep driving."
"Until when?"
"Dammit, Thelma, why do you have to ask so many questions?"
"Louise, I'm just wonderin'--"
"Here we go."
"I'm just wonderin' what we're gonna do now.  We can't just keep drivin' forever.  Pretty soon they're gonna go down in that ravine and figure out that we didn't explode down there like they think we did."
"I know that, Thelma."
"So pretty soon we're going to have to either go to Mexico or Canada or Hawaii or something because otherwise they're just gonna track us down again!"
"Thelma, I don't know if you know this, but just a second ago, we experienced one of the most beautiful moments of sisterhood that two women can experience.  It is the closest I have ever come to feeling honest, true, desire for another woman and I have no explanation for that as I do not believe I have suddenly become a lesbian, but so help me, if you keep talking, I will push you out of this car, go find a man, and screw the piss out of him and then I'll take myself to Mexico and you can just fend for yourself, all right?"
"Jesus, Louise, I didn't--"
"You always have a problem, Thelma.  Always."
"And you're always sayin'--"
"You're the one who said 'Keep drivin.'  Keep going, whatever--you said it.  Not me.  I should have just--"
"Should have just what?  Left me to get arrested?  So I could get thrown in jail?  I wouldn't do well in jail, Louise.  I'm not like you."
"What does that mean?  You're not like me?"
"Like you said, you felt desire for me.  I think you may be a queer gay."
"First of all, that's redundant."
"What?"
"Oh, never mind.  The point is, I am not a lesbian.  I just felt very close to you for a second.  And yeah, maybe you would have gotten arrested, but we both could have wound up dead, and maybe that's not so bad for me, but it would be for you.  You got a lot of potential.  You could wind up being the first female President or something."
"Oh please, Louise.  Who would buy me as the President?"
"And what am I going to do for the rest of my life, huh?  Coach a baseball team?  Become a nun?  Be one of those nuts who goes to midnight movies and talks back to the screen?"
"Whatever we do, at least we'll be together."
"Thelma, we can't stay together."
"Why not?"
"It wouldn't make sense."
"Why wouldn't it?"
"Because they already caught us once when we were together.  If we split up, we can help our chances."
"Thelma, I'll get caught without you."
"Not if you get on a plane to Europe and never come back."
"Why can't you come with me?"
"I don't like Europe.  It's too soft for me.  You stay there long enough pretty soon you're just a big lump of cheese ready to be spread on crackers.  That won't happen to you."
"Because I'm tough?"
"No, you fool, because you're already soft.  It wouldn't make a difference to you.  Me?  I'd have to become a whole different person."
"So you're gonna--"
"Get some money and a fake passport together for you and then ship you off to Germany or France or someplace where looking pretty actually comes in handy.  You'll like it.  You can play the tourist for awhile."
"Accident."
"Huh?"
"Up on the road ahead."
"Oh."
"And what are you gonna do?"
"Open up a bar somewhere and change my name to Goldie Hawn."
"That sounds awful."
"Maybe I'll become an actress."
"Louise, I don't mean to hurt your feelings, but you got the face of a steel mill worker.  Nobody in their right mind is gonna to put you on camera."
"Good thing you weren't looking to hurt my feelings.  I don't see you winning any Oscars."
"I just don't see why we can't stick together."
"Because we'd eat each other up, you and me.  That's what happens to people like us.  We turn into one big black hole that sucks everything up into it.  It's not healthy, Thelma.  You know in a few days I'm just going to start slappin' you around like everybody else in your life, and you don't need that.  And I don't need that.  We both fed off each other and that came in handy for awhile, but now we have to break this off before our luck runs out.  You don't think we can survive another cliff jump, do you?"
"..........."
"Do you?"
"No."
"Well, all right then."
"Well then."
"Would you have been all right if we'd died back there?"
"No, Thelma, I would not have been okay.  I'd have been dead."
"I mean, would that have bothered you?"
"Maybe not in the moment.  I mean, not in the actual moment it was happening, but looking back on it, yeah, it probably would have.  Dying is a stupid thing to do, especially for somebody who sort of drives you crazy and ain't even giving you sex to make it worth it."
"I'd have been okay dying for you."
"Well, that's because you don't have much to live for."
"Louise!"
"I'm joking with you.  I told you, you have potential.  Real potential."
"What good is it going to do me if you're not with me telling me how to use it?"
"Honey, I got you this far.  Next time, you're getting pushed out of this car."
"'Cause you don't want to be with me anymore?"
"No, because everybody needs a good push now and again."
"So you're happy we lived?  Seems a little too good to be true for me.  The two of us just getting away with it all.  Seems like it's too easy."
"There ain't nothin' easy about livin', Thelma.  An ending where the two girls die together looking pretty and holding hands?  That's easy.  Having to keep going?  That'd be tricky.  That'd be an ending I'd wanna know more about."

Ichabod's Police Report

I know, I know!

It was a miracle I got away!

Luckily, as a boy
My father would often throw flaming pumpkins at my head
And I'd have to duck
And when it would miss me
And hit my brother Milimar
We'd all laugh
And then fetch aloe
For his burns

Who knew one day my childhood game
Would come back
To help me
In a moment
Most dire?

Anyway, I would like this man caught
Immediately

I was able to get a good look at him
And I believe that with my description
And enough manpower
You should be able to catch him
In no time flat

Well, let's see

He was riding a black horse
He had a cape
And gloves
Annnnnnnnnnnnnnnd...no head

There, that about does it

Well, I have no idea how he manages
With no head
I'm not his mother
I'm a victim
Or a near-victim

The point is, he's a terrorist
A godless, soulless, headless
Pumpkin-throwing terrorist
And he's still on the loose!

No, he didn't look anything like my father
My father has been dead for--

Was that some sort of joke?

Some of your ribald New England humor?

Well, I have a joke as well
And it goes like this--

What do you call someone who almost died
When a headless specter
Chased him through the woods?

Ichabod Sally Crane
That's what you--

It's a family name

Well, when a family is void of girls
And the family name is Sally
Somebody has to have it

 What do you mean I'm odd?

This town is odd!

You have dead soldiers
Chasing down harmless schoolmarms like me
And I'm odd?!?!?

Well, unfortunately there is no masculine version of 'schoolmarm'
That's not my fault!

Forget it

I see the only solution here
Is for me to move to another hamlet
Where an exemplary educator
With impeccable taste
Who loves good food
And brawny, swarthy women
With deep voices
Can find some semblance of happiness

I bid you all farewell

Give my regards to Katrina Van Tassel
She'll be devastated, I'm sure
As I can assure you
I was the best lover
She's ever known

At times, though
I did feel she was a bit overwhelmed
By my overpowering masculinity

I'll be gone from Sleepy Hollow
Just as soon as I pack up
My Russian doll collection

Perhaps I'll come back someday
Preferably when pumpkins
Are out of season

A Hill of Beans

Victor, your eggs are a bit runny today
They say you can tell how good a cook is
By how they do at making eggs

I've never made them properly
Which confirms my suspicions
That being domestic
Was simply not in the cards

Do you remember how miserable we were in Lisbon?

Me sulking about Rick
And you desperately trying to cheer me up
Instead of beating me
Screaming at me
For betraying you
For being a bad wife

Then you brought me here
And the war ended
And things seemed to improve
Didn't they?

I was smiling all of a sudden
I was keeping house
And making eggs every morning
And you had a job
A nice little bookstore
Where there'd be no danger
Of you being killed
By Nazis

And aside from your nightmares
About the camps
We were...

Victor, I go out
Every night
To bars
All different sorts of bars
And I listen to music
And...

I find bars with pianos
And piano players
And I ask them to play it
That song

Some know it
Some don't

But when they know it
I sit
And order a drink
And close my eyes
And I see him, Victor
I really do
See him
Very clearly

And nobody would think
That during the day
I wear an apron
And make beds
And write lists
Full of things
I don't want to do
And then do them

People would think I'm just a sad old woman
Having a drink
After the funeral
Of a friend
Or husband

And in some respects
They're right

Lately, life, for me, Victor
Has been one big funeral

I'm...bored

...And so...

I'm leaving

I'm going back to--

I'm going to find him

Now that things have settled down
And there's nobody left chasing us
And we have a nice little life
I think it's high time I ruined everything
Don't you?

Victor, you were always so stable
And stable people are always trying
To help the unstable

There's no helping me, Victor
Not with aprons
Anyway

So I've made you your eggs
One last time
And left the house neat and polished

Your suits are pressed
Your books are alphabetized
You have lists upon lists in the drawer
Next to the stove
Of the things you'll have to do everyday
Until you can find some other woman
To do them for you

Darling, don't think that I didn't love you
Love and excitement
Make poor bedfellows
That's all

Take care of yourself, all right?

There

There's our good-bye

Now if you'll excuse me
I have a plane to catch

Clementine

Third mining explosion
In two years
And what's done about it?

Harder helmets
More rations
In case you're stuck
And a Bible to read
To keep your soul afloat
Until they figure
How to get you out
Presuming they do figure

Something tells me this time
I'm going to get both Testaments read
Before I see daylight again

Smell that?

That's brine

The other guys are going crazy
Saying something's gonna blow
But I know brine when I smell it

The last time I smelt it
I was pushing back water
Out of my eyes
Trying to save my girl

And every couple of nights
I'll be sleeping
And I'll wake up
Covered in lake water
With her standing at the foot of my bed
Soaked to the bone
And looking sad

Oh, my darlin'
What was I to do?

Drown with you?

I would have to
If the boys hadn't pulled me out

Two days later
Your father went in the same way
But when we took him out
He didn't look as preserved
As you did

Is that why you haunt me?

Because I didn't go back in
Like he did?

You weren't paying attention, my love

There's all sorts of ways
To drown yourself

A wise man once said
People drown you
They hold onto you
And drag you down
Until you blow out
The last of your bubbles

I say you bury yourself
That way
The air goes out slower

So I come down here
And the first time the mine collapses
I see you, darlin'

See you standing
Underneath the falling rocks
And I think to myself--

Oh good, she's come to get me

A day later they pull me out
With a broken arm
And your picture
Still sitting pretty
In my pocket

The next time things cave in
You're even closer to me

Smiling and holding onto to the bottom of your dress
Dancing to the music
Of the world crashing down
All around you

It was a week before they got me out that time
And when they did
Your picture was ripped down the middle
And I thought that was a bad sign

Now here I am

This time I felt you whisper in my ear, baby
This time I felt your hand slip around my back
And slide right over my heart

Then a squeeze
And another squeeze
And that smell

The smell of brine

That's the last thing I remember

Now it's dark
The lanterns burning out
The men falling asleep
One by one

The air moves in waves
And every time you lift a hand
Or your head
It feels like you're pushing against something

Like you're at the bottom of a lake
Trying to swim to surface

Is this what you wanted, darlin'?

For me to feel what you felt
Because I couldn't...

Because I didn't get there in time?

Is this how you want me to drown?

Well, all right, darlin'

We'll do it your way

Just tell me when
And I'll close my eyes, all right?

Just come see me one last time
Before the dark fills up my lungs
And I'll take out that ripped picture of you
From my pocket
And say I'm sorry
One more time

Nora's Second Thought

Torvald?

Torvald!

I'm back

I'm back, I'm--Well, I'm not back
It was the craziest thing

There I was
Outside
Just a moment ago
And--I don't know if you're aware of this, but--

It is FREEZING out there
I mean, it's really cold

Scandinavia at Christmas
Who knew?

Anyway, there I am
Outside the door
Feeling all proud of myself
When it occurs to me--

I'm a woman
It's 1879
And my only real skill is fainting
When somebody says something shocking

So I stood out there
For a second
Again, very cold
The sound of a slamming door
Still echoing in the night
And I thought to myself--

Nora, what exactly is your plan?

And--are you ready for this?
I realized...

...I don't have one!

Hahaha

I mean, I suppose I could become a chambermaid
Or a schoolteacher
Or a professional brooder
But the thought of actual work
Just sort of...ick, you know?

But, at the same time
I do want to honor my decision
To become a strong
Independent
Free-thinking
Individual
With a mind
And path
All my own

I was just wondering if--
While I'm doing that
--You'd mind paying for everything?

And of course
I'll do you the honor
Of staying married to you

I was being too hasty before
After all, we've had a good marriage
Does it have its ups and downs?
Of course it does

But what marriage hasn't weathered
Forgery, deception, condescension
And a complete breakdown
Of trust and communication?

The important things are that
We're rich
And we throw good parties

...Oh, and the children

Of course
The children

You know what?

I think I'll go upstairs
And kiss those little darlings goodnight

My darling little...uh...um...

The one with the brown hair
And the one with the hilarious speech impediment

Oh, how I've missed them
While I was outside
Contemplating
Becoming a prostitute

Darling, I'm so glad we're over this little...obstacle
And let's never speak of it again

Oh, and I forgive you
I'm not sure for what
But that's all right

If you think too hard
About those sorts of things
Life becomes far too
Dramatic

The Giants of Don Quixote

There's no wind today
That's the first thing I notice

A dead man
Feels no wind

All the air is--whoooossssssshhhhhh

--Expelled

From the body

Whether the death is real
Or not

I don't know why everybody accepted my death
So readily

No heartbeat?
So what?

Heartbeats
Fade with age

Organs--ssscchlllurrrrpppppppp--seize up
Into themselves
But the mind

The mind--when cultivated
Carries on

Perhaps it carries on past death
Who can say?

All I can say is this--

I became aware
At some point
That people
They
Well
As you get older
They
Hold
Onto
You
And
Suddenly
You're...

You're sort of...

Burdened

Drowning

You're sort of...

Drowning in and because of
People

And when you have things to do
It becomes very
Well
Exhausting

To...

Have to deal with...that

So I faked it

My death

I faked...death

It was...not all that hard

When you're old
People just expect you to die
Sometimes they even wait for it
Anticipate it

Then--'Oh look, it's here--he died'

I thought they'd be surprised
When I pretended to pass away
But no, they accepted it

Maybe they were glad that I finally...

...Slowed down a step

They all said their good-byes
I reached dramatically
Out, out, out

Old, withered, crippled hand
Grasping for life

And then I--conk--passed out
They all left the room
And when the undertaker showed up
I paid him off

And went right back out again
In search of my giants

Wouldn't you know it?
I found them

Once they heard I was dead
They stopped hiding
The cowards

Suddenly there were giants everywhere
But a noticeable lack of windmills

Perhaps that explains
The calm absence of air

I've spent these past few years
Taking down one giant after another
After another

I have to say, Death has been very polite
It's allowed me to finish the task at hand
Before coming
To claim its prize

Even the gracious Lord Himself understands
That a man's life cannot end
In a bed
In rags
With a priest
With pitying friends
With tears and mumbled prayers

And regrets

It has to end fighting
Giants, or otherwise

Mine will end here
In a field
On a cool Fall night
A guitar playing somewhere
The slit belly of a giant
Spilling out slowly into the night

I lay near the giant's mustache
To avoid the blood and bile
But it trickles down to me nonetheless

And every once in awhile
A little cry
Escapes the lips
Of the fallen ogre

I believe him to be the last
But maybe not

A part of me hopes not
A part of me hopes there are more giants out there
For someone else to conquer

Am I happier dying alone
Instead of drowning in all those people
As I did the first time I died?

Ultimately, I can't help but look at it
This way--

I was born alone
With breath
And tears
And blood
And guts

And now I shall die alone
With much of the same
Though this time
None of it is my own
Not even the tears

And there's the guitar
And the night air
Prompting me to sing a sweet song
To the dead beast
Beside me

I'll be joining you soon, my monstrous friend
And I'll die singing

This is the only way to die, you see

Laying next to the obstacle
You finally
Overcame

Departures

1921

Oh-nine-blah-bidee-blah

Deception

Departures

Anybody catch that?

I’m not speaking in code here

I’m just confused

As what

I should be

Expecting

One gets off the plane

And says hello

One says good-bye

The plane takes off

The plane lands

The luggage is retrieved

The reunions occur

There is harmony

And I sit

And wait

By departures

She was supposed to be here

In 1921

Somewhere around here

And the ghosts fly on the planes

The same way

The living do

How else would we get around?

We can’t fly, you know

When you’re dead

You don’t immediately turn into a bird

And angel wings are more metaphorical

Than anything

So…

One day  you’re sitting

On a patch of green grass

Drinking a mint julep

And you hear a voice

Because, notable upgrade

When you’re dead

Phones become unnecessary

You just hear a voice that says—

‘I regret what happened in 1921.

I’ve had ninety-one years to think about it

And I’ve decided I regret it

And I’d like to talk about it’

And—‘Can you pick me up from the airport?  Flight this, this time, see you there’

And then—

‘I miss you’

So you go to the airport

You try not to see the poetry

In the situation

You check your watch

It says the same thing it always says, which is—

‘You’re Dead.  Why Do You Care What Time It Is?’

Maybe you’re late

Maybe you’re early

Maybe she changed her mind

Maybe it was just one big joke

Maybe you’re not even really here

You know, you think that sometimes

You think—

This could be a dream.

This could all be a dream

And if it were

How happy would I be?

Or would I be happy at all?

The carpeting is sterile

The coffee in my hand is tasteless

The announcements over the loudspeaker

Sound like my mother

I feel like I’m being scolded

For being here

Then a door opens

There’s a sharp intake of air

That makes a nearby seeing-eye dog bark

And she’s there

With that same little suitcase

With the broken clasp

And the sticker on top

With her name on it

She looks…the same

I look…different

She walks up to me

Hands me the suitcase

Kisses me on the cheek

And says—

‘Thank you for showing up’

And I’m not sure if she remembers but—

I always showed up for her

That was what I did best

Ninety-one years later

And I’m still showing up

Happy to do it

How do you like that?

We depart departures

And I ask if I can hold her hand

She says ‘Yes’

And somewhere a plane takes off

As planes will continue to do

Somewhere it’s still 1921

But not here

Not today

Things You Shouldn't Do In Front of Me

Mainly, you never want to pee in front of me

I would say, that’s a crucial…thing

Not a deal-breaker, per se

But definitely crucial

I really can’t ever see you pee

Or, this is the risk

The, I meant not-large, but not-small risk

That I will immediately

Jettison the love I have for you

Out of my body

For-, you know, -ever

There are just things

One person

Should never do

In front of another person

If they’re expected

To live with that other person

For, you know, possibly

The rest of their lives like—

Peeing

Burping

Teeth brushing

I mean, you should absolutely brush your teeth

Just not in front of me

I basically don’t want to know

That you have a functioning

Human body

Or there’s a chance

I’ll never want

To have sex with you again

I know this seems weird

And kind of

Shallow

Or something

Maybe

But you know, we all have our--

Quirks

You, for instance, only like your eggs scrambled

And I, for example, want to punch you in the face

Whenever you sneeze

So you see

It’s a little of this

A little of that

You know, it’s really about romance

As soon as the romance dies

I mean, really

What do you have?

Honestly

Chaos, basically

Chaos and sneezing

And peeing

And sex is just—

Oh God, I hate that word

Try not to say that word in front of me

And if I start to say it

Stop me

Because even hearing me say it

Just really freaks me out

All of a sudden

There’s this pressure to be—

You know, it’s like—

SEX

Ah!

Haha

No, but really

Try to stop me next time

And don’t eat ribs in front of me

Or pickles

Oysters

Anything in a shell

And I think we’ll be fine

Really

I think we’ll have a nice, long

Fulfilling

Life

Rory

Of course

We’re talking about a boy

Named Rory here

I would get dumped

For a Rory

That would make

All the sense in the world

When a parent names their child ‘Rory’

And it’s a boy

They’re pretty much setting the kid down

On this track

To become this, you know

Gay homewrecker

And he’s a Communications major, of course

And he’s cute in that douchebag sort of way, of course

And he has, like, ten million hags all over his Facebook page

His Facebook page

Is literally

Riddled with hags

I mean, riddled

With them

Hags

Fat girls named Shawna

Who are like—‘When are we going on the BOAT again, Roooorrryyy?’

And you just want to fucking slap them

Even moreso than him

Fucking fat hag boat-loving Shawna

I’m losing him

To this man

Boy, whatever

This Rory

I’m losing my boyfriend

To Rory

And it’s inevitable

I’m watching it happen

I saw it coming

How awful is that?

When you see it coming?

People make getting blind-sided

Sound all bad and shit

But truth be told

At least that’s one big moment of ‘What the fuck?’

As opposed

To two whole months of it

When Rory’s insinuating himself

Into your life

You see the red polo

And the picture of him at some wedding

That cost more than your parent’s house

Indicating ‘I have friends with money.  I have monied friends.’

‘Get with me, kid.  I got a future ahead of me

Not like that bum you’re stuck with now.’

He goes on trips to places

That aren’t tourist-y

And plans to move to New York

Just because it’s New York

And has perfect teeth

And ex-boyfriends who still love him

And Nelson Mandela

Follows him on Twitter

And you’re fucked, you know?

And you know it

You know you’re fucked

And you know, even before the Facebook stalking

And the omens

And the foreshadowing

You think to yourself—

I knew it when I heard his name

I knew it the minute someone said—‘Rory’

‘Oh, I met this guy today, babe.

He seems cool.

We’re going to work on this new project.

His name

Is Rory.’

But what do you do, right?

Ask if he heard it?

Ask if the love of your life

Heard that shoe drop?

The pendulum swing?

The glass break?

Are you supposed to say—

‘Stay away from that guy!

As a matter of fact

Stay away from all guys named Rory!’

No

You just keep washing dishes

You just keep getting dressed for bed

You just keep looking back at the train bearing down on you

The train named Rory

And you say—

‘Oh yeah?

That’s cool

He sounds

Nice’

On the West Bay

The thing I wanted to tell you is
Nobody expects you
To be okay

Really, nobody

I mean, if you wanna, I don't know
Shave your head
Or chew your hair
Or, like, run away a few times
That'd be okay

I mean, I'd like it if you didn't do that
But nobody's expecting--this

What you're doing right now
Being all cooperative
And serene and shit

Nobody's really expecting that
And to be honest
I think it's starting to unnerve people

I mean, somebody died
Like, not your Mom or anything
Not me, but still
Somebody you were--

Were you dating the kid?

Okay, a date
But you're fifteen
So that's like
What?
Twelve years of marriage?

I mean, I know it was natural
Heart disorder, I mean
But it still sucks
It's still okay to feel like it sucks
Because it does
Even if it's natural

Natural things can suck
Like, you know, hail
That really sucks

Earthquakes, head lice, that kinda shit
It all sucks
And it's, like, totally okay
To wanna, you know, bitch about it

God, I'm terrible at this

I mean, I'm not some wise old sage
I'm thirty-five
You're not expected to be wise
At thirty-five anymore

You should have had one of those old dads
Who, like, had you after years and years of thought and consideration
So that when you turned fifteen
And your whatever-maybe-boyfriend died suddenly
He'd have some really awesome advice for you
Instead of just 'things suck'

I took you here
Because, I don't
The West Bay
It's--

It's peaceful
And I thought--?

Maybe if you were in a peaceful place
You'd be able to, like, soak up the peace
Or something

Don't ask me why I think my daughter
Is a giant sponge
But that's what I thought

You know, when your grandmother died
I came out here
And I couldn't take my dad with me
Because he was just, like, sitting in this chair
His soul just kind of
Dripping out of him
Like a leaky grieving faucet

So I came here
And I looked at the water
To see if I could
I don't know
Understand something

And then eventually
I just sort of felt like--

Like it was time to go home

You have me
For whatever that's worth
Maybe not much
But, just so you know
I'm willing to stay here
Until the water tells you
It's okay to go

And if this whole thing is a bust
And you actually are totally fine
And this is just incredibly awkward
And we're looking at people fishing for nothing
Then you call me that too
And we'll leave

I just wanted you to know
That I know
That all of this...

...That I know

I wanted you to know
That I know

And, you know
I love you and shit
So...

So we'll wait
We'll watch the water
And when you're ready

I'll take you home

Okay?

I've Been On This Titanic Before

"First time?"
"Hm?"
"First time on?"
"Eighth."
"Wow."
"Yeah.  I'm addicted."
"How many times have you survived?"
"Of the eight?"
"Yeah."
"None."
"None?"
"Yeah."
"Oh."
"I'm...I'm getting better."
"Is it the drowning?"
"Well, yeah, I mean--we all pretty much drown."
"No, I know but--"
"Eventually it's all drowning.  It's not like the World Wars."
"Oh, that simulation is too much for me.  Too overwhelming.  I can't even figure out which side I'm supposed to be on and by then somebody's already shot me in the head."
"How many times have you played this one?"
"Four times.  I died twice."
"So you've survived twice?"
"Yeah."
"That's--"
"I mean, the first time was a fluke.  Somebody knocked me into a lifeboat.  I mean, really, like, rushed into me and I fell into the lifeboat."
"What about the second time?"
"That time I was--that was intense.  I was in the engine room."
"You were in the engine room?"
"They make it harder for you once you survive once.  I can't imagine what they do to the people who survive twice.  They must make you the captain or something."
"It's the same way when you die.  It becomes easier.  This time around I'm an actual lifeboat operator.  I'll probably still end up going down with the ship."
"What do you suppose the problem is?"
"I guess it's that..."
"Yes?"
"Well, I guess, the issue would be that I always try to get as many people in the boats as possible."
"You mean before yourself?"
"More like never myself.  I always end up giving every free seat I can find away to someone else."
"But that's not the goal of the simulation."
"I know."
"The goal isn't to be some kind of hero.  It's to save yourself."
"I know, but it's so realistic."
"That's what makes it fun, but you can't think of the other people as real people."
"But they are real people.  Just like us."
"They're just players.  Everybody's playing."
"But some of them are crying and--"
"It gets to be too much for some people.  Not everybody should play.  They tried to regulate it, but of course, everybody's convinced they can handle anything."
"My sister tried the Hindenburg simulation.  She wound up in the mental ward."
"You see what I mean?"
"But it's hard to just turn your back on those people."
"With this simulation, the idea is to tell yourself that there aren't enough boats anyway.  And there aren't.  There really aren't.  So no matter how many people you manage to get in the boats, some are still going to die.  And the goal--the only goal--is for you not to die.  So, I mean, save people, sure, but ultimately, get your ass in a boat."
"I know."
"If you keep losing, they're just going to block you from the simulation.  Then you're going to be stuck doing 'Supermarket Hold-Up' or 'Traffic Accident.'"
"Maybe I'm in over my head."
"Just focus on the task at hand.  Not that I can talk, I only succeeded once."
"But from the engine room!"
"I got a boost of confidence from that first time.  You survive once, and it just...changes you.  Suddenly you're a survivor, you know?  You start to behave like one."
"It's a good thing you got knocked into that boat."
"It was some older woman.  She pushed me.  I tried helping her into the boat and instead she pushed me.  I banged my head, and when I woke up, the simulation was over."
"That was nice of her."

. . . . .

"Were you ever...in a simulation?"
"What?  An old woman?  No.  Never."
"Really?"
"Nope."
"Huh."
"But maybe this time, I'll get lucky like you did."
"Yeah.  If I recognize you, I'll try to help you out."
"Well, like you said, you just have to worry about yourself, right?"
"Well...right."
"Right."
"But if I see you--"
"I'm sure I'll get it this time."
"Just stay focused."
"I will.  I'll try."
"You ready?"
"Ready as I'll ever be."
"Nine's a lucky number."
"Is it?"
"It could be."
"You're right.  You're absolutely right."

One For Me, One For You

Robbie's going to the racetrack again tonight
Can't stop him
Why bother
Makes him happy
So what, right?

What can you do about it?
Can't do nothin'

But sometimes
Sometimes
He gets on me
About my stuff

I say Robbie I don't say nothin' about nothin'
So don't go telling me
About my stuff

My stuff fits in the palm
Of the Lord's hand

The Lord can't even look
At your stuff

So let's keep everything right where it is
And see what we see
And what we see only
And the Lord sees all
So we're all being taken care of
That's what I like to believe

That we're all secure
So long as we tend
To ourselves

--And only ourselves

Can't save the world
I try tellin' Robbie that
When he gets to cryin'
About Bill

I say, 'Robbie, honey, Bill was set for the grave
Two seconds after I had him
And the fact that it took him thirty-four years
To get there
Is some kinda miracle'

I don't cry about Bill
Not where anybody can see me do it anyway

Why cry for somebody who's saved?
Who's been pulled from the water?

Do I miss my son?

I miss a lot of things

I can't go crying for everything
I miss

Robbie gets on me
About what I could have done for Bill

Robbie gets judgmental
And superior
Gets on his high horse
And rides all over my living room
Pointing at pictures
Saying 'Didn't I notice this?' and 'Didn't I notice that?'

If I say 'Yes, I noticed' then I'm neglectful
If I say, 'No, I didn't' I'm oblivious

Which is better?

Robbie goes to the track
And bets on his high horse
And says he's not like Bill
He's not going to wind up
Like Bill

Sure, sure, kid

Because death only knows one path, doesn't it?

I'm not afraid of death
And I'm not afraid of dying

I could have died two seconds after I was born
And I would have been just fine with it
Just like my Bill was

And if you said 'This drink is going to kill you'
Or this pill
Or this lie
Or this choice

I'd drink two of 'em
Take two of 'em
Lie twice
And choose to go again

Because that's just how I am
Some are for livin'
And some are for dyin'

And only the Lord gets to pick
Which one you are

Robbie says, 'But I need you.  But I need you here.  I already lost my brother.'
I say--'Robbie, honey, we're all going to lose everybody anyway.  We don't get to keep a thing, don't you understand that?  We don't get a damn thing in this world that'll stay with us forever.'

Men leave you
Kids leave you
Your possessions?--please

Nothing
You get nothing

So lose it all
And get it over with

Sometimes I tell him
'Robbie, when I go
If you want
You can come with me'

And it's true

I'd tell him--

'Just sit right down next to me, Robbie
And have that drink
Take that pill
Lie that lie
Just like you see me doing.'

We'll do one after another
Just like when the kids were kids
And they'd put their Halloween candy
Out on the table

We'd split it up
With me going
One for me, one for  you

One for me, one for you

We'll just play it again
Doling out the chances
To him and to me
Just like it was with Bill

One for me
One for you

Until there's nothing
Left