How I Lived for Several Months
I lived for several months like Ok,
no one trust the things I’m saying.
One friend calls
to say that I’m a television show.
I apologize first, then try to be proud of myself
for being so entertaining.
In the television show,
everyone has decided
that the things animals want are worth
devoting all weekends to.
My friends and I love animals,
and love the other television show
where the animals,
with their plastic cups of beer,
and their fights over
First with him, on the dance floor,
and now with me,
in the parking lot?
are only themselves
and only the most honest and innocent
spectacles of urge and acquisition.
I apologized to my friend for being the television show.
People love television, and people love friends,
but people will love their friends less
if their friends behave like a television show
about a group of friends sharing an apartment
who, in the span of a few drastic haircuts,
keep getting more and less
friendly with one another.
It’s only when I see a friend from out of town
that she laughs and forms a kind opinion of me
as our enchiladas arrive.
She has never owned a television
and has never learned to hate
my stupid show
like we do.