after Dogs Chasing My Car in the Desert by John Divola 

Thursday night again and I learned you get to eat chicken bites if you can first eat the shame of ordering them. Learned there wasn’t a chair there when the girl went to sit and fell to the ground and we tried to stop laughing but the girl said go ahead, it’s funny. Wanted the power to hurt you. Wanted to choose not to. Couldn’t sleep because the chicken bites were too salty and those things affect me now. Thought about how calling him Jesus is for Baptists and Southerners. Catholics call him by his last name if they call him at all. Catholics try the saints first. Catholics say things like Christ is a sword in your stomach, the blood in your veins. Christ is a torch burning blue. Woke up the next morning and found a Mylar balloon on my walk home. Thought about how if it ended up in the ocean, a fish would mistake it for food. Grabbed the balloon, popped it with my key and threw it in the trash. Tried the saints again. Asked them how do I know? Learned that if I have to ask…

Tried Christ this time. Learned to embrace suffering as a path to holiness. Wasted my suffering anyway. Let the dogs catch up to me and they didn’t know what to do once they did, they just sat down in the sand, breathless, waiting.