Reading Baudrillard as a Writer
READING NOTES — I think I finally understand Baudrillard, which is to say, I think I finally understand how to read him. Take a phrase like, “The real is not real.” It’s infuriating. It doesn’t mean anything. Of course, that’s half the point. If you don’t see that, then you’ll set him down and never pick him up again.
As The Famished Soul Seeks Art
SPOKANE, Wash. — As I struggle to say something positive about this museum, I recall the adage, “If you can’t … don’t say anything at all.” So why do I feel compelled to write? I think it’s because my struggle to say something nice has more to do with me than with the museum itself.
Chicken Strips & Fries at Avista Stadium
SPOKANE, Wash. — My wife and I go to Avista Stadium. I order some chicken strips and fries. I know I’ll regret. I do it anyway. It’s a theme in life, the counterpoint of which is, “I know I won’t regret it, so I do it immediately.” The bridge between the two themes is the word, “yes.”
Ants Among the Pacifiers
SPOKANE, Wash. — A poem inspired by Humaira Abid’s “The Stains Are Forever,” part of an exhibit at the Northeast Museum of Arts and Culture.
A Brief Morning Visit to Belle Fourche
BELLE FOURCHE, S.D. — Behind the Belle Fourche Visitors center, there is a large round monument to the Geographic Center of the United States. It is only a monument. The actual location, I am told, is farther north, marked by a government surveyor. It’s close but still too far out of the way for most travelers, so they built one here.
The Vapors Are Having Their Way With Me
GREENFIELD REST AREA EASTBOUND, Indiana — Praise the sun! Yes, it’s chilly but nothing compared to the two weeks we spent in North Dakota. It feels good to step into 40-degree weather. I don’t even wear a jacket as I approach the building. With each step, the smell of vinegar grows stronger.
Two Polar Bears Fall in Love
WASHINGTON, D.C. — When did you last think about Mad Max: Thunderdome? How Tina Turner, a gay icon, and Mel Gibson, a famous bigot, shared the same space and made a cult movie?
Sometimes Open, Sometimes Closed
WISHEK N.D. — The wall is covered in carpet that looks like wood. The same woman’s name is on most of the leaderboards tacked to the walls. She and her son play in the adjacent lane. There are eight lanes. Approximately 40 bowling balls rest on shelves. There is a coat rack with 24 hangers.
An Attempt to Itemize the Contents of Hotel Room 210, Excluding Items Brought by the Guests
MYSTIC, Conn. — An HVAC unit (GE model) for heat and air conditioning, affixed to the wall. Under the lid to the thermostat, a sign: THIS UNIT IS CONTROLLED BY WALL THERMOSTAT. / A window, white gauzy curtains, brown textured blinds, yellow-gray-brown striped drapes
St Alexius in the Hospital Solarium
BISMARCK, N.D. — The solarium is spacious. There are trees and couches and soft music. The side of my face is flush with heat from a gas fireplace. A hospital employee sits in an armchair with her feet on an ottoman. A minute later, she’s asleep. Her head goes limp and drifts to her shoulder. Her arms slip from the armrests and hang to the side of the chair.
A Meditation on the “Approach”
AMARILLO, Texas — It’s called an “access” road, but you can only drive so close. You park on the shoulder and continue the journey by foot.
The Queen Is Dead. So What?
RICHMOND, Va. — The queen is dead. So what? A hurricane slams the Dominican Republic. Japan braces for a typhoon’s wallop. Also, “In a Ukrainian forest, Russian retreat means digging up the dead.” At least the pandemic is officially over, jk.
Another Sloppy Attempt to Cultivate Serenity
RICHMOND, Va. — A fire truck flies down the road on one side of the park, sirens blaring. I have yet to enter the labyrinth. I’m still reading signs placed at the entrance — large wood rectangles with instructions, including WELCOME! ENJOY YOUR JOURNEY!
Meadville Is Applebees
MEADVILLE, Pa. —Meadville is / staying at the Holiday Inn Express / reading the first chapter of Debord’s Society as Spectacle / walking across a highway to eat
Absolutely No Recording of Any Kind Without Prior Written Consent
RACHEL, Nev. — do poems count / should I refrain / from mentioning / the Project Oxcart memorial outside the inn / inside, the Galaxy Quest poster behind the bar / the gift shop in the corner / the dollar bills that hang from the ceiling / names and drawings in permanent marker
Walking the Labyrinth Among Glass Shards
LAS VEGAS — She contemplates the pile of blue rainbow glass. She chooses a rock from the pile. She holds it. She puts it down
While We W(h)et Our Whistles
LAS VEGAS — A threesome, two of them friends, the other a significant other, together, discuss another who is absent, a mutual acquaintance, whose sins are catalogued, whose motives are impugned, whose reputation is dissected, who is said to be “manipulative as fuck.”
How to Be a Good Conversationalist
DURANGO, Colo. — I think it’s funny that everyone has a regular glass, but I am served the giant mug. I didn’t ask for a big glass. I didn’t ask for any size, but they gave me the big one. Even T has a little one. After one and a half beers, I’m pretty buzzed. I’m also exhausted from driving. It’s a pretty god-damn great feeling, to be honest. A delicious feeling. To be this tired, to drink a beer, to be in a strange place that feels far away from home. I feel very relaxed.
The German Shepard at the Hotel Doubletree in Durango
DURANGO, Colo. — It’s a nice hotel, lodge-like in exterior and décor, in a town that feels remote and far away from home, yet it’s a busy town, way up in the mountains. We are the visitors, the strangers. For us, this is a one-time destination, a stop on the way to somewhere else. For the other occupants of this hotel, it’s an annual destination, a reliable getaway.