I’M SO AMERICAN
BIRTHDAY COCK
WE ARE WRITING ABOUT WHAT IT’S LIKE TO LIVE IN THIS TIME, WITH THIS VERSION OF THE WORLD, AS WE LOSE MEN TO REDDIT, WHO ARE TRYING TO FIND THE VALUE IN BEING. MUCH OF WHAT I WOULD CONSIDER TO BE, THE VALUE IN TRYING ON RIDICULOUS OUTFITS CHOSEN BY MY MOTHER. “This is for me!” SHE SAYS. SHE IS CELEBRATING PUSHING A NEAR 11 POUND BABY OUT 26 YEARS AGO. SHE CELEBRATES ME GRADUATING COLLEGE ONLY SLIGHTLY BEHIND. SHE CELEBRATES MY EMAILS OFFERING AN INTERVIEW. I TELL HER TO STOP ASKING PEOPLE WHO ARE TRYING TO SELL HER BOTOX, IF SHE NEEDS BOTOX, AND THIS ISN’T A NEW CONVERSATION, AND IT NEVER WILL BE. JUST UNDER 700 FEET FROM MY APARTMENT, THERE IS A BAR, THAT I WAS AT EXACTLY ONE YEAR AGO. BLACKED OUT. ARGUING OVER SLUMLORD’S POWER IN NEW YORK NEIGHBORHOODS. I AM SPOKEN TO LIKE I AM STUPID, AND THIS IS NOT THE FIRST, OR LAST TIME, THAT WILL HAPPEN. MY SISTER TAKES ME HOME, AND I WAKE UP IN MY DRESS. THERE ARE PEOPLE HERE I HAVEN’T SEEN IN MONTHS, AND IT’S LIKE LOOKING AT MY SIBLINGS. THEY ARE MY MOST RELIABLE SOURCES OF NEWS THESE DAYS. I THEN BEGIN TO THINK HOW THIS WORLD IS AN OK PLACE FOR PEOPLE TO KISS IN THE STREETS, AND SOMETIMES YOU ACTUALLY DO SEE KIDS PLAYING KICKBALL ON ASPHALT, AND FOR ONCE THE COPS AREN’T CALLED. IT IS REITERATED THROUGH THAT. IT’S REITERATED WHEN I SMOKE WEED AFTER I BONE, THOUGH LATELY, I SEEM TO JUST PASS OUT INSTEAD. HM. THAT’S NEW. AND THAT’S WHY I HAVE TO TAKE PHOTOS OF EVERY SINGLE PAGE I READ.
I’M SO AMERICAN, LIKE AN ICED COLD DRINK
HAVING SEX FOR DINNER
WHILE BETWEEN
CHECKS.
WE LEAVE
SMELLING LIKE
EACH OTHER,
AS THE OUTSIDE
WORLD
BEGINS TO SMELL
LIKE SEPTEMBER.
AND I AM REMINDED
OF A SEPTEMBER DAY,
FROM A FEW
SEPTEMBERS
AGO,
WHERE A MAN
ASKED ME
FOR MY NUMBER,
STANDING ON
THE PLATFORM,
DECIDING
IT WASN’T A DAY
I NEEDED TO JUMP.
I TOLD HIM,
MY NAME
WAS ANGELA,
AND I TOLD HIM,
I HAD A BOYFRIEND.
THE SEVERED SQUIRREL TAIL
ON THE SIDEWALK
WAS ACTUALLY JUST LITTER.
AND ONLY A
WEEK AFTER
THE PIGEON NEST
IN MY SHAFT
WAS DESTROYED,
DID THE MOM
GET KNOCKED UP
AGAIN,
TO REALLY GIVE IT
ANOTHER TRY.
A BABY
WAS BORN,
ONE THAT ACTUALLY
MADE IT,
JUST OF FLESH
AND FEATHER.
SITTING ON THE UNIT,
LIKE,
“YEAH, I GOT THIS”.
SO I THINK OF
THINGS
I HAVEN’T DONE.
LIKE BEING
IN A MOVING CAR,
COMPLETELY ALONE.
OR ASKING,
“are we too fascist
of a country
to have sex
in libraries?”.
WHEN WERE THINGS
NOT ALWAYS
A LOSE-LOSE?
I’M HIGH ENOUGH
TO GET LOST
IN MY
NEIGHBORHOOD.
WHICH MAY CORRELATE
TO THE FACT
THAT I STILL
HAVE DREAMS
IN MY CHILDHOOD
HOME.
EVEN THOUGH
I’VE LIVED MOST OF
MY LIFE
OUTSIDE IT.
BECAUSE WE AVOID
THAT PLACE
LIKE HELL,
AND BECAUSE
I MEAN THAT
WHEN I SAY IT.
LIZZIE SCHEADER: