Friday, October 8, 2010

I’m so needy, I’d eat spam

Hadn't gotten an e-mail from you in, I don't know, in how many days? Thought you'd found out I'm a fraud, unworthy of your attention, that you'd deleted me from your contact list, then I thought—over grapenuts and fresh mountain peaches with cream, crunching, swallowing—that maybe you're in my spam.

In the eerie blue-green glow of my computer screen, in wonder, before morning raised its sleepy head, I adjusted my bifocals, pressed the keys. You were there, you are there. Found your latest e-mail, tasted it, gobbled it up.

You said at one point you thought you loved K. Said she needed pictures to justify her indiscretions. Her ex-lover framed you together, digitally. Sex is strange, you said. Sex makes you vulnerable. I sipped coffee, black, stared, blank.

To have sex with a woman is to conquer her, you tell me. You said you passed her around in stories you told friends, like toast and jam, I thought, took a bite. You talked about her to the boy with a knife and a cat face, spread her like butter on his imagination.

Now I know where to find you. Splenda, spam, swallow, delete.

Inspired by an e-mail from Stephen Elliott, author of the new book The Adderall Diaries,
The Adderall Diaries is now available as an app for iPhone and iPad. The app is different from the kindle or iBook version, both just released.