Between
strangers with prefaced inquiries of how are you doing; how is it going?
“Good,
fine” and then proceed
Maybe
it is casual manners, it is a dance of connections, which
I
have rarely seen the point in participating
The
whole structure of faux-concern befuddles my linkage to actual concern
As
the contemplation of a lack of connection between people on the periphery
Are
not aware that there is no strip for a true response to land
Yes,
my daughter just had an abortion. Yes, I
went to church last night and had an epiphany.
Yes,
I took a twenty dollar bill and bought eighteen items off the dollar menu at
McDonalds
This
afternoon and I started eating them at the counter and then ran off to my car
and gorged until vomiting in the parking lot, Yes, I inject insulin for type-two
diabetes I caused
Yes,
I like to think about world peace and then do nothing, but shop at Wal-Mart
Yes,
I am thinking about blowing my head off as soon as I find the gumption
Yes,
I am bored out of my mind,
Yes
I have never enjoyed life more. I am
truly happy, with
Just
me not a partner, or a stranger but just who I am in exponential existential
enlightenment
My
glow is truly amazing, can’t you see it?
I am on fire.
Yes
I do want to buy your product so you will silence your plea, because I am a
people pleaser and I fear saying no to people because my father was an
alcoholic and would rage if he did not get his way like an infantile tyrant and
my mother, brother and I saw fit to sweep every true feeling I have ever had in
life under a proverbial rug that I am now granting to you as I nod in an
exaggerated manner so that I may present a charade of concern for your
narrative
Yes
I was raised by racists in a generation where I know family members of mine
have participated in the beating of black people like you only in my mind I am
not saying black and I know you just walked up to me to ask for directions, but
inside I am somewhat afraid in that if I was not at work right now I would have
sped up and avoided this conversation entirely, but you asked me how I was
doing and then asked for more, so I think it is three blocks that way, but in
the back of my mind I know I would have thought about locking the door if you
did the same to my home and definitely would not have opened it, but yes I am
doing fine.
Yes
I believe in Jesus and I am glad you seemed to enjoy the fish on my SUV. Yes I raise my daughter’s daughter because
she cannot sustain employment and smokes methamphetamines often enough that we
should talk, but we don’t, but I am talking to you now. Yes, I have stolen from the grocery store
when I did not need to just to see if I could get away with it. Yes I had a few pregnancy scares with men in
my twenties and with my husband.
Yes,
the weather is lovely. Yes the president
is the devil. Yes, thank God for the
president. Yes, I read Fifty Shades of
Gray. Yes, I read Either/Or. Yes, the light was yellow officer. Yes I think that does make you look fat. Yes, I would like to get a pizza
delivered. Yes, I do not have time to
visit the nursing home. Yes, the latest I can stay is three days.
The
maze, the mirage and the discharge in the asking of questions that are not
questions
The
wandering responses that are not responses float and abuse the stoic soldiers
of wishing to communicate honestly and sometimes the greatest candor is
silence; that I do not want to know how you are doing, because I do not know
you or want you to know me and if I were to ask if I were you I would be
insulted and thusly I feel sorry for all the wandering strangers
Who
ask me on the phone or to the face of how I am doing unprepared or un-wanting of
an actual response, but as a Tourette’s tic, a must do, before functional
discourse can transpire
If
you ask you should be prepared for an answer;
If
you ask you should be prepared for an answer;
For
I will tell you and want the same in return
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