The Inversion Scene

I’m standing in the gallery

And I have an epiphany

So, uh, I come home

To write it all down

Before I forget

Because I’ve been drinking

So, you know, of course

I’ll forget

Three or more glasses of wine

And even a miracle would be

Forgettable

But, like, so

Here’s what hit me--

The art scene?

At least around here?

Has inverted

It’s turned in on itself

Because, like, remember in the 80’s and 90’s--

And, I mean, I don’t remember them

But I’m aware of them

Of, like, their existence

--Remember how everybody was a bitch?

LIke, everybody

Was always acting bitchy?

Acting mean?

And it was almost a game

Like--

How mean or bitchy can you be?

How much of a villain?

Like, almost like--

How much of a straight-up Disney villain

Can you possibly be

When everybody’s watching?

And then

When people weren’t watching

It was like--

You were fine

You were actually fine

You were nice

You helped people

You sort of gave encouragement

To, like, other artists

Who were maybe unsure of themselves?

I remember seeing--

Hearing!

Hearing about--

This artist

Who was, like, notoriously terrifying

But, like, comforted this young artist

After, like, a really horrific opening

And, like, ugh--

I miss that

Because now

We’ve got the opposite

Now, we’ve got all these people

Who, like, really want to be perceived

As good people

So, like, they talk about how nice they are

And how kind

And what they do for charity

And, like, secretly?

They’re fucking pricks

All of them

Like, you get them alone?

And they’ll just like--

Tear this one down

Tear that one down

Did you see that shit they did?
Did you see that garbage?

Wasn’t it fucking awful?

And then, oh, out in public they’re--

Heyyyyy, love you

Love you

So supportive of you

And, like, everything you do, right?

Like--Namaste, girl

Total namaste to her
And her gifts

And they don’t even care

That they look so fucking fake

Because the alternative is being authentic

And, like, on their best fucking day

They can’t fake that

So--

So someone like me

Stands in a room
With all these people

And I feel crazy

Like, I tell myself

I’m crazy

Because everybody’s being so nice

And, like, my skin is crawling

Because something
Doesn’t

Feel

Right

Because I know that even if these people

Aren’t talking about me
Right at this moment

Given the chance

Or, like, given any reason to at all--

Like if somebody even mentioned my name?

They would

And nothing they would say

Would be nice

It would be brutal

Because all they know how to do

Is be brutal

And then smile at you

And, like--

I miss the days

When people were, like, brutal

To your face

But then, like, gave you a hug

And sort of showed you

That, like, yeah they were going to call you

On your bullshit

But, like, that it was love

That it was all love

And, like, real love

Not, not, um, not--

Like real love, you know?

It’s crazy

And it’s crazy

That I feel so crazy all the time

But now I know

Now I know why

It’s not me

It’s the inversion

It’s the parallel of it all, you know?

It’s like--

Science fiction

It’s…

It’s--

And like, what’s the solution?

Time travel?

Time travel back to when people

Would, like, read you down

But actually give a fuck about you?

Yeah, I don’t know, you know?

I, uh--

I really don’t know