Monday, May 28, 2007

The New ERA

I bought a little boy's skateboarding t-shirt that smelled like Alex, paid for it with a dollar bill that smelled like him too. I think that's his smell, worn paper money, fiber and grime.

I wore the shirt, to the benefit concert and to the movies, until it smelled like both of us. I sweat kind of citric, more than a girl should.

I washed it Sunday morning, thinking of the day I washed Alex's socks. They probably weren't really his, and I suppose that's only the beginning of the pathetic and the sordid. Out of the wash the shirt smelled like an empty take-out carton.


Last year I wore the same two yellow tops all the time. This fall it was the blue tank I dyed a sick grey since. I'm wearing this shirt instead of the boys' red ringer tee now. It's faded black, with a green Irish angel whose wing is a harp and trumpet a Hurley logo. I want to dress like the kind of boy I still want, slim-fit t-shirts, straight-leg jeans, stripey thermals and battered shoes.

Suburbia's no savannah. I don't think they'll be fooled.

1 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

I think the both of us need boyfriends. Lets go to a singles bar. I don't like boose though, it tastes nasty, like vomit.
If we both had boyfriends though, we'de go on double dates and eat chinese food and go to tiny unheard of record stores and whatnot. They would both be really beautiful, in a unique kind of way. I can imagine mine having freckles. But he wouldn't be a ginger.

May 29, 2007 3:23 PM  

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