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This Summer


How many times, exactly, did Andrew shit into the ocean this summer? Was Georgia really not drinking at all? Am I the only one who, when I was sure her parents weren’t looking, gently pushed over a squatting, intolerably bratty five year-old? What is a good estimate for how many dozens of times Alex said “I know!” - 30 dozen? 50? What was the rank of the frequency with which Steven, among all the poets in Japan this summer, said the word “Brooklyn”? Of “Futurism”? How many times did David think “I am lord of your wetness”? Shave in the shower? The first while the second? Or, perhaps, zero? Who gets to be wet, and who dry, in this fav new world we find ourselves dangerously luxuriating in, surrounded by tucked-in shirts and masturbating priests? Can Camilo find a color in nature the same shade of orange as his backpack? Is there a point to searching? Is the truth in searching not having found, after all? Can Dave be trusted? What’s the use of agreeing with someone more than a few times a day? When you realize you are on “the same page” as someone, does it make you want to kiss them forcefully, regardless of their gender (and your usual preference)? Is this why you try to avoid it? Did Wenger renounce poetry more than three times? Who is Karen Gould, really? Did Ellen Tremper remember Corinne’s birthday this summer? Has she ever, and if so, did she extend the remembrance into action? Did she, perhaps, ask Corinne to forward an e-mail to herself in which Ellen wished her a happy birthday? How many shots of espresso did Ryan pull neutrally? Joyfully, spitefully? How many decisions can any one person really make in a day? Does Georgia like her decisions to be presented all at once, or revealed slowly, like the lies of a compassionate and loving philanderer? Did Bane have enough friendship time? Find himself in a shirt area? Have a friend put a gun to his head in the kitchen while another friend asked him questions, simply as an exercise in actualizing the theoretical? If so, did his answers have a conviction they hadn’t since his early teenage years, when he was, let’s face it, a more energetic and positive person? Did Friedman have a dream of a boy’s defiance? Did anyone among us climb into a hole in a cave scarcely larger than the widest part of their body, not knowing what they’d find on the other side, or whether they’d be able to extricate themselves? 


And when all of these people sit in the same room, what questions are


                    The money asks you not to shout


                   On your own day


                    You are engulfed by your beliefs


                    And only one of us will drown in it


                    Magnetism - not all of it, just our brand 


                    Will likely always cripple us

Posted 01/02/14
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