How was your quiz?
Did you finish Heart of Darkness?
I like that part
with the playful paw-strokes
of the wilderness
or whatever.
I like that you like some older
songs the girls in my class
only listen to The Backstreet Boys
or LeAnn Rimes. I finished that mixtape
there’s some stuff you won’t know
every song made me think
of you. The last one
I kept rewinding I know you love
Kate Bush but I wish it ended
with her hand in his hand
there aren’t enough happy endings.
If you tell me
your address I can send it
easy.
When I sing “Pictures of You”
I think of you.
You're so sweet.
The hurricane was scary but
we have a generator so
I can chat. Did you make up
with Lauren? Do you want to talk
like we did last night?
Maybe this summer
you can visit we can swim
with dolphins, you can touch
them, really! They feel
like plastic and they smile
and laugh like people. My mom
took me there after dad died
and this one dolphin
stayed next to me the entire
time, wouldn’t let any other kid
pet it and you know I know
it sounds crazy, Hale-Bopp
and crystals and all,
but I swear that was
him pulling me along
by his fin.
You’re more Kate Moss
than Cindy Crawford,
you really can’t
listen to them,
high school guys
are like cavemen
but trust me they’re
just ashamed
of their yellow armpits
and they
we only want you
to notice us.
That’s nice your class sent
my school some clothes
and food, I’m sick so I didn’t
get them but Monday
I’ll look for your lacrosse
sweatshirt. I’ll put it under
my pillow, I have a hard time
sleeping, I just keep thinking
what if we never meet?
Sometimes my mind does these
weird loops and no matter
how much I tell myself
skip the track, skip the track
it’s like I’m stuck on some
fast ride, like the Gravitron,
where suddenly I can’t
move my legs and the panels
are rising to the ceiling
except I never know if this
is the time it won’t stop
spinning if forever it’s just
Anna where are you Anna
where are you Anna—
I know you don’t really like Nirvana
but did you try listening
to “About a Girl”? Sometimes
I do this weird thing
when the modem is warming up
and it’s taking a long time
I like lie down on the carpet
and I can kind of feel
the vibrations, like I’m in
middle earth or something
anyway that’s how the end
of that song sounds to me
when he just repeats I do all
gravelly until it grinds to a stop.
Haha you’re right it does sound
like purring but also maybe like
an animal getting strangled when
the dial-up starts screeching or
what’s that song from your
away message? Like a cat in a bag
waiting to drown.
Anna Jesus my mom’s waiting
so I have to go in a sec but if
you keep feeling that way at least
don’t take the pills you can
cut yourself or something
that won’t make you sick, if
you do it on your thigh
no one will notice and I’ll
love you no matter what.
You know your dad will
notice them gone and that’s
way worse than breaking
curfew and I don’t want what
happened last time . . .
Remember what I said
if you smell it on him just
say you’re sorry walk to your
room slowly and lock the door.
I gave you my number
but you haven’t ever called
you can always call me. I’ll
stay up for you all night
I’ll call the cops I’ll find him
I swear to god
No, I know, I’m just saying,
I wouldn’t hurt him.
I can’t even crush those
white sacs when you
can see all the tiny spiders
glistening inside.
I’ve told you
about it a few times
it’s my favorite
song and I think if you cared
about me like you say
you do you’d at least
listen to it like
at the mall you don’t
have to buy
it or anything.
Did you get the photo Anna
sometimes they take
a long time to download
and then you have to go
find the right folder
I told you before how
to do this you need to accept
the file first Anna it’s ok
I’ll tell you what it is
it’s a blue heart
on my wrist blue
like your eyes Anna blue like
the Atlantic off Fort Myers
where we’ll swim at night
it’s warm enough
we don’t even
need towels I’ll slip
my fingers under
your elastic bottoms
and the salt will make
you gasp in the heart
there are two As
and their little feet
are touching maybe
the picture will show up
soon Anna are you there
Are you okay?
Is this Anna’s sister?
I know sometimes you
use her account
but you aren’t supposed to.
Don’t worry I won’t tell
can you just
let her know Andy wants
to talk to her?
listen you little cunt
why did you call my school
I told you I’ve been sick
they all know me
as Andrew not Andy who
do you think you are
you weren’t checking up
on me you were checking up
on me why would I lie
I’ve told you things no one
knows and I know all
about you like what you
did with your sister’s
hairbrush and where you
let your cat knead you
over the quilt I’ll call
your dad I’ll tell him
all the disgusting things
his little girl will say
Anna?
Hello?
Sorry.
I’m sorry, I’m not mad
at you I haven’t been sleeping.
Are you wearing the cotton
ones? Can I tell you what I’m doing
right now?
I really can’t not talk to you
Anna, I feel like
maybe I haven’t been totally
honest with you.
That’s actually
my senior photo, it
wasn’t taken that long ago.
Sometimes I think I’m an ancient
man, not even mortal, that
I’ve been living for about
two thousand years and everyone
I ever knew and loved
has died but I’m still here
wandering the empty beaches.
Did you know Conrad shot himself
in the chest when he was 20?
That’s why I said don’t take
those pills, you never know what
you will do on a night
when even though you’ve closed
all the windows it’s like
the wind is still getting into
your veins. And you might go on
to write something genius, Anna,
you’re so talented. I’m sorry
I lied. I don’t think age is really
all that important, I mean
Conrad’s wife was sixteen years
younger than him and I’m
sorry I’m so sorry.
ANNA
ANNA
ANNA
ANNA
ANNA
ANNA
ANNA
ANNA
ANNA
ANNA!
please
ANNA
Okay, Anna, you’re right, that’s what I love
about you, you’re so perceptive and intelligent,
you have this really mature outlook on life,
like when your sister stained your favorite skirt
but it was the first time she got her period
and you didn’t yell at her because she was crying
and scared, and you brought her an Eggo waffle
with peanut butter and told her to lie down
while you rinsed and rinsed your little skirt
clear of blood. I know you’re only a sophomore
but you should start thinking about colleges
where you can be in a small, discussion-based
course, you’d thrive in something like that,
where you can’t put your head down
on your desk in the back because your dad
was yelling late again. If you only had a little
more accountability, someone who would
make sure you had finished your reading,
who would ask you some hard questions
about what you really want out of life, about
who lives inside you past the Anna you
project, because I’ve talked to the real one
and she’s a wonderful human being.
So I don’t live in Florida. But the part about
the dolphins, and my dad, that’s real,
I promise. I still have the photograph
they sold us after. And I do live with my mom—
it’s just more that I take care of her. She sits
in this green chair all day, it’s not a rocker, but
she kind of scooches it back and forth
so the living room fills up with this soft
rasping, like how your throat felt when you
had mono last year, all close and tight and
it would be pleasant if it didn’t hurt so much.
I do go to school, too, in a sense . . . I teach
AP Lit and I adore Conrad and I think your
idea about what they buried in that muddy hole
was actually really smart, I hadn’t ever thought
of it like that. I have this theory. There are so
many people, and so many books—think
of all the pages, every single sentence
that exists right now—and I feel
like the mass distribution of the novel
put us all in these little capsules, flashlight
under the covers, door shut. Don’t get me
wrong, it’s transport. And you and I
don’t always belong in the right-now.
But then you get to the bottom
of the last page and it’s like the dark
starts filling up the room. My theory
though is this—that there are these moments
where only two people in the entire galaxy
are reading the same word on the same page
at the same time, really reading, leaning
into the rubble and vise and steep slope
of some font a stranger chose, only two
lambs corralled, together, time and space
tensile then, and they touch in some
strange syntax of the mind. I can hear
the rasping, it’s getting faster, which means
I need to go get the gardening catalogue.
It’s our little routine. She can’t remember
much but she loves to hear me chant
the heirloom bulbs into the room.
Trumpet Daffodil King Alfred. Chinese Trumpet
Lily Golden Splendour. Cyclamineus
Narcissus Tete a Tete. Small Cupped Narcissus
Barrett Browning. Dauntless Gladiolus.
If you visit you can meet her. She would
like someone else to read her the names.
I could take you to the drive-in where,
late September, the corn is still standing,
and even though you’ve seen it, year after
year, even though you know what’s
behind the harvest, what’s really there,
a wildness waits to reveal itself.