Two Cities, One Story: A Portland-Brooklyn Exquisite Corpse
“Dear God,” she prayed, “let me be something every minute of every hour of my life. Let me be gay; let me be sad. Let me be cold; let me be warm. Let me be hungry…have too much to eat. Let me be ragged or well dressed. Let me be sincere – be deceitful. Let me be truthful; let me be a liar. Let me be honorable and let me sin. Only let me be something every blessed minute. And when I sleep, let me dream all the time so that not one little piece of living is ever lost.” (18)
“She craned up on her toes and kissed my cheek…”Don’t do that”, I said. “You just met me. This is New York.” (19) Standing, I shouted out: ‘Death stalks all of us upon this earth!’” (20) “She was my mother, but I was motherless.” (21)
“My mother had been liberally dosed with cocaine, amphetamines, and arsenic during her ovulation and throughout her pregnancy with me. It was a disappointment when I emerged with such commonplace deformities.” (22) “A mother is a story with no beginning. That is what defines her.” (23) I was a bitter clown on the precipice of corporate wasteland. (24)
What is it, then, between us?
What is the count of the scores or hundreds of years between us?
Whatever it is, it avails not—distance avails not, and place avails not (25)
“Not responding is a response – we are equally responsible for what we don’t do.” (26) “You can imagine you smell urine in everyone’s soup.” (27) “It is failure that guides evolution; perfection provides no incentive for improvement, and nothing is perfect.” (28)
“You could grow up in the city where history was made and still miss it all.” (29)