Wherever you feel discomfort in the body,
make yourself at home. A knee without cartilage
is your creaking cradle. Notice where
discomfort ends and pain begins.
There’s a special pill that takes me home.
What I love about the new year is how
it comes in easy-to-swallow caplets.
Last night we talked about steaming lobsters alive
for the new year. What I love about sacrifice
is not doing it myself. My father once
stood on the deck of a ship that was sinking
in the English Channel. Dying is easy.
The desire to be at ease is killing me.
Shakespeare knew how to kill his way
out of a scene. Could you please press PAUSE?
I have to find Dover. I have cultivated
a certain helplessness. I cannot fix the teleporter
without your help. Currently we’re unable
to transfer matter without traversing space.
Wherever you lay your headache is
the right dosage. Dover is where your pain
hopes to end. If only I had an energy drink.
Thank God, a natural disaster to make things
interesting. Up next, the year in extreme weather.
Indeed, the heath is insane tonight.
Could you please press THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY?
That was a good one for pain. Since then
much has come into view. My shadow stretched
so long I updated my status. I cultivated
a certain newness. Last night we talked about
inventing a new word. And I want to be there
when we get there. Welcome back to the year in
obfuscation. Stay tuned for the year’s best
neologisms. Thanks for making everything
a competition. Thanks for the terrible conflicts.
Reading is the new terrorism. Once my father
read a play that was four centuries old.
For the new year I resolve to become fluent in
English. From my father I inherited English
and a lack of cartilage in my right knee.
For the next thirty seconds the new year will be
painless. I have nowhere to go.