Sarah Genta


Is it about clicking around people’s business: family trips, nights at the gay bars, or interests in Jesus or Gustav Mahler or the Cubs, or new relationship statuses or most recent party hopping? Tonight it is. Tonight it’s about asking why anyone would eat at mcdonalds, but not asking why it makes sense for we two to drive around and waste gas and eat more fake sugar and three tofu lasagnas and not get any rest. Its all about intention, is what we two would argue. And mcdonald’s purpose is clearly worse than tofu’s.

It’s the worth of it all. And tonight that’s what it’s about. it is about wanting to be somewhere else and understanding that that makes no sense for a human who is, necessarily, in one place. It is about consolidating yesterday’s coffee into today’s cup and drinking them both to an end that I don’t end up doing. A plan that I don’t end up following, but staying up all night sounds like something was accomplished. More thoughts about what I have not done is productive, I guess.


Tonight it is about pulling my pants up over my belly and slouching and saying that I will start tomorrow.


Tomorrow will be the day. And bull promises is what tonight is about. Diasporically I am in-between, and gorged of disparate places at once: swiveling on a backless computer chair


looking out my window at a gas station advertising “freedom!” Please. tonight is certainly not about believing the rhetoric of a gas station being called freedom; but also


camping out at hot springs five miles outside of California’s Inyo National Forest, talking about jazz with a dear stranger on the banks of Austria’s Salzach River, and toasting a Dos Equis in full color on the Salinas Mountain Range’s front porch swing. Deep breath for doing these things in a slide show, and deep, sweatpants-sheltered-belly-breaths for what I am missing. It’s like the other day when, I stood up, took two steps, and, for a quick but palpable second, my mind truly could not logic why my body was not already at my destination. only two steps -making tonight about severance. Which makes no sense for a human,


who is necessarily in one place at one time. But, tonight, trident wrappers and a hollowed can of blue diamond almonds, roasted, salted, emptied in an urgent sweat to fill something. Filling too much. Happy in those other places, because I was less then. Ugh, too much. Tonight is about less.




Use less. Matter.


Tonight is about mattering. At least they kept part of my entry. At least I was nominated. At least…it really all comes back to wasting gas with someone who shares your abhorrence of the golden arches.

Euphemism Campus Box 5555 Illinois State University Normal, IL 61790