I left the party too late. In fact, it was dawn. Queens in the morning is bright and smells like plums covered in first flies. I caught the train headed across the water towards the monumental part of town, and – funny story – my subway car was full of dogs. Not just mutts, designer breeds. Brussels griffons. Silken windhounds. A doodle that wandered from passenger to passenger, extending its golden paw, which I shook. I cried, because it reminded me of what I’ve missed. Stuff like nature experiences, good intercourse, and college. At the party they’d asked me about you. They don’t like you because you are ugly. They think I should instead fuck waiters who look like surfers, or surfers who look like waiters. Our lifestyle is unappealing to them. We are low on cash and have irregular bedtimes. Plus the pills, and the filmed episode with the neighbor. You have sacrificed little and I have sacrificed much. I would sacrifice more. Capsize the car, kill each dog. My whole heart. The front of the world and the back. 〰️