Farting in the Library

Have you ever farted in the library?

As your bowels groan, you distinctly remember some librarian from your distant past telling you to be quiet in the library.

And you feel like you’ve committed some great sacrilege

Yet you feel safe because, unlike in a church, God can’t hear you in here

And you don’t see any one else in the room

But you didn’t notice the girl reading silently in the corner

She heard you

And, indeed, she’s been farting in here for hours.

Solve

Solve. Some mystery. Like a boy detective, solving. Eyeing things through his eyeing, magnifying, death-defying, glass. Grass, green and everything in between. He sees all, eyes all. Solves all. Trusty hat on head, coat all dapper and handsome-looking. He spots a spot. A mere dot, some might say, per say, but to him, this spot, this dot is so much more. A clue. This clue. Busts the case wide open. And a criminal walking away in handcuffs would shake his fists if he could. “Damn kid,” he’d say if the police officer would let him get two words out. Those two words out. In the car, ducking his head. Slamming the door and a picture is taken of the young boy responsible. His parents are so proud. What a good boy he is. They done him good to raise him that way. What a lovely family.

How nice.

Admiration

I lost myself in admiration

Now I’m stuck in syncopation.

Slipped off beat

and stepped on toes,

I’m two left feet

and so exposed.

I’m swimming naked in a sea

And getting burnt in third degree

Your white-hot words

Like white-caps peak

My thoughts are slurred

I cannot speak.

Heavy-weight Champ

when she was little, before any of this shit happened, she would spend her winters with her dad and brothers. they'd wrap her up in all her coats, cover her mouth and chin with a red knit scarf, hold her mittens open so she could slide her hands inside them. all the while, they'd laugh and smile with their perfect teeth and deep, adult voices. outside, they'd build forts and play tag, lay down and make snow angels. they'd pick up lumps of snow, loosely packed spheres of frozen water. Steven taught her just how to shape her hands to make a perfect sphere. to them, it was never a fight. it was an art, an image of the beauty of life. hurt was not an aim, as this was just a game.
THOSE were snowballs. when her rehab therapist explained to her parents that the situation had "snowballed," she called bullshit. no snowball was this much trouble. the situation was fucked and that's all there was to it. how she'd gotten into it was because she was weak. but she was fifteen. what fifteen year old girl wasn't? two years of emotional body building gave her the strength to get back in the ring of reality, though. at her last session, she said she was expecting to be the heavy-weight champ. there was a lot on her mind, so much in her heart. but she was a regular Atlas, now. in charge of the world on her shoulders.
she had covered her face in makeup. she had a special love for teal. tousling her multicolored mane, she'd smirk at her reflection and make kissy lips as she applied the deepest red lipstick she had. before she left for school every morning, she'd look down her nose at herself, then pass her own test and say,
"you an' me, babe? we're bad."
on the day she later came to think of as The Day the Whole Fucked-Up Situation Got Even More Fucked, she stood and leaned in to kiss the mirror, leaving a perfectly symmetrical lipstick stain on the reflection of her room.
two years later, she scrubbed as hard as she could to get it off. the red stain merely blurred and smeared. she resorted to putting a sheet over the whole vanity. then she slowly pulled the posters from her walls, the one of James Franco and the one of Britney Spears folded neatly to fit on the pile at the bottom of her closet. she took down the streamers and beads from her walls, emptied the contents of her jewelry box, and put it all in a case to sit on the pile of posters. she stripped her bed of the vibrant pink sheets and the orange comforter and traded them for off-white and yellow. she picked up the clothes that hadn't been touched in two years from her floor and put them in her dirty clothes basket. she'd sort through them for the ones she wanted to keep and the ones she wanted to get rid of later.
when she was done, she opened her wallet and unfolded a photograph of her and her brothers huddled in the snow, bundled up in their winter's finest. the memory was a cloud in her head, a foggy remnant of a feeling. her father had taken the picture and she had known that it wasn't the thick layers keeping her warm; it was her family. taking a single tack, she stuck it on the bare wall and curled up on her bed to look at it. she'd worked on getting rid of all the bad things for two years and the consequence was a feeling of emptiness. but now, at the bottom of her lead-lined hole, she was ready to start filling up with good things. her breath slowed and she began to dream about living on a boat on the open ocean.
her mother entered and saw her asleep. looking at the room, she smiled. "looks nice," she thought. she didn't see the photograph on the wall.
if she had, she would've started crying.

Like Two Houses in the Night

[Lights are down. Someone is singing “Ise Oluwa.” When they finish, lights come up.]

[A table is set and four people sit: a man at each end of the table and two girls in between. Glasses are full of water. Food is in large dishes in the middle of the table. Heads are bowed for praying, hands clasped, elbows on the tables, eyes closed. One man is uncomfortable (Davin). Davin’s eyes are open and he shifts in his seat, looking around with darting glances.]

Dad: [Praying] Dear Lord, Watch over us as clouds draw near. May they bring heavy rain and low winds. Our garden is getting dry, Lord. We’d sure appreciate it. Grant us enough wind to run our turbine and not too much as to raise waves. But if a storm’s in your plan, go right ahead. We’re just askin’. In case of dark clouds, protect us from the swells and keep our home and the home of this kind young man safe. And I know e ask for a lot, but we’re plenty thankful, too, Lord. Thank you for the company of this man, Davin. Thank you for the wonderful eggs that Addy lay this morning. Thank you for this loving family, my beautiful wife and our shining daughter. She’s growin’ up so fast, Lord. Thank you for the roof over our heads and a sturdy home to keep us afloat. Amen.

[Mother and daughter repeat “Amen” in unison. Davin catches on a little late, chiming in after them. Family comes out of prayer: opens eyes, drops hands.]

Dad: Alright. Let’s dig in!

[(General commotion) Ry passes Davin’s plate to Dad, who fills it while Ry dishes herself salad. Mom grabs a roll and hands one to Ry. Dad returns Stranger’s plate with a roll on it, fills Ry’s plate, fills Mom’s plate, fills his own. Commentating of filling plates occurs. Everyone gets salad, main course, and a roll. Ry’s plate is filled first and she begins eating before everyone’s plates are full.]

Dad: So, Davin, how’d you come to live all alone in that house?

Davin: Well, I was living on Manhattan Barge for a while, but I got kinda tired of that. I didn’t really belong there. I got my own house and just floated off…

Dad: Hm… Any plans for the open seas?

Davin: I really like diving.

[Ry, who has been paying attention to nothing but her food, looks up, intrigued.]

Mom: Have you seen anything exciting?

Davin: Yeah, plenty. I dove at Rushmore and Machu Pichu. I tried to get down to the Eiffel Tower in Paris, but it was too deep. I saw it, though. About a hundred feet below me.

[Ry is confused at the list of places: she doesn’t know where they are. Dad is indifferent. Mom is impressed, but hides it when she sees Dad’s expression.]

Ry: What’s… Eye Tower?

[Mom holds back a smile and Davin chuckles, then stops, embarrassed that he laughed at Ry. He doesn’t notice Mom’s smile.]

Davin: It’s a really old structure that was in Europe. Or… still is. Or something.

Dad: So you’ve been all over, huh?

[Davin nods.]

Dad: Any idea where you’re headed next?

Davin: Yeah. [Sets down utensils and takes a deep breath.] I’m on my way to Mt. Everest.

Mom: What for? Isn’t it supposed to be covered in trash? I didn’t think they cleaned that place up before it submerged.

Davin: Yeah, but… I feel like it’s important. I’m not sure why, but I think it’s something I need to do. Did you see the broadcast of its submergence?

Dad: I don’t know how we could’ve.

Stranger: It was just a couple months ago.

Mom: I had no idea it was so recent. We thought everything was gone ages ago.

Dad: [explaining] We don’t have tv.

Davin: Mm… It was… very moving. There were boats all around the summit. I’ve never seen the water so crowded. The way it worked out was that giant barges ringed further out, got as close as they could, but houses squeezed between their gaps to get closer and boats squeezed between their gaps. And smaller and smaller boats fit into this space around the tip. It got to a point where people swam just to get closer. With all the different cities there, they couldn’t mount a police force to keep the people in line, but… they didn’t need to. It always amazed me that they didn’t need to. Nobody got any closer than ten feet and they all just sat there. They huddled together on their porches and in their boats. They lit candles and prayed and there was one woman who was singing. It was an African song, something about the creator and what He’s made. I don’t know. Everyone… just… watched…. As the last piece of Earth went underwater.  [Pause] I don’t know what I expect to find there. I mean, I expect I’ll find nothing. I expect I’ll dive down several feet to this junkyard mountain and touch the summit, the last thing gone. It’s so strange when something submerges, ya know? It’s like it’s gone… but it’s still right there. It’s just under this layer of water.

[Everyone sits for a moment, absorbing.]

Dad: I think it’s bedtime, Ry.

Ry: But Dad!

Mom: [Before Dad can say anything.] Go get ready for bed and we’ll be right up to read you a story.

[Ry flounces offstage. Mom stands and clears dishes; exits, leaving Dad and Davin alone.]

Dad: [Waiting a moment.] “The Lord said to Moses, “Tell the Israelites this: ‘You have seen for yourself that I have spoken to you from heaven. Do not make any gods alongside me.’” Exodus 20:21. [Pause] Make sure you know who your God is, and who He isn’t.

Davin: [Carefully] I’m… not Christian. [Then, quickly] I used to be. I was raised Christian.

Dad: And what made you lose faith?

Davin: [Considering] God told Noah he would flood the Earth and rid the world of evil, start over. But the world is submerged and it’s clear to me that evil is still afloat. [Pause] When I left Manhattan Barge, it was because my mother had drowned. I didn’t understand how God could let all of these horrible things remain above the water while she had to die. I don’t understand.

Ry: [offstage] I’m ready for my story!

Dad: [stands for a moment, takes a breath.] We can stay docked for the night in case a storm hits. You can head on your way in the morning. [Pause] Good night. [He says it as though he doesn’t mean it. exits]

[Davin sighs and stands. He starts to exit and mother enters.]

Mom: Davin. [Davin stops, turns] You won’t find what you’re looking for there.

Davin: What?
Mom: At the mountain.

Davin: [laughs] I don’t even know what I’m looking for.

Mom: It’s what everyone’s looking for. [Pause] Happiness. Fulfillment. Success. We all want to feel whole. My husband needs his religion. It gets a little ridiculous sometimes…

Davin: So, you’re not even –

Mom: I just need my family. And you? You’re looking for home. But you won’t find it at Everest. Just because you touch it, it doesn’t mean you’ll bring it back. It doesn’t mean you’ll bring her back.

Davin: You heard.

Mom: You can go to Everest, but it won’t make you feel any better. Don’t think that just because there’s evil afloat that the world was perfect before. There may be evil in this world, but there is good, too. The flood wasn't a punishment inflicted by God. It’s just another change. [Pause.]

[Davin turns to leave, but stops.]

Davin: Thank you.

[Mom smiles and Davin looks around the room. His focus stops on a painting on the wall.]

Mom: [explaining] These are all Ry’s. I think her happiness is painting.

Davin: That’s a really nice rainbow. [Pause. Turns back to Mom] Goodnight.

Mom: I’ll see you in the morning.

[Lights fade and someone sings some of “Ise oluwa”]

Self-Portrait

Voodoo

Time

How can you not live in the moment when it's the only one we've got?

Hide and Seek