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R.G. Vasicek

INCARCERATED

Factories are making paper clips. Can you imagine the satisfaction? The bending of the wire. The applause of the factory workers.

You watch me get incarcerated. I say call Ray. I eat peanuts. Practice jump shots. Try on orange jumpsuits. Amerika is a bargain. You get what you pay for. My Ma sends me coupons for Pizza Hut. I get out early because I am an experimental writer. Get out there, the Judge says, do your thing.

We fall into a gravity well. There is a hidden sphere in our apartment. I do jumping jacks in my underwear. You say, Are you happy to see me.

Night keeps getting in the way of day. I cannot wake up. I cannot sleep. Insomnia and other Norwegian ailments. You encourage me to take a flight on Air Cunnilingus. I oblige.

We are like tomatoes on a vine. I love you so much. You say, how much. I say, I just said. And then you squeeze me like ketchup.

Mustard runs in my family. I must warn you. We are hot & spicy. Prepare yourself. There will be vinegar. There will be horseradish.

Factories are making paper clips. Can you imagine the satisfaction? The bending of the wire. The applause of the factory workers.

Get me out of the elevator at The Strand bookstore on Broadway. I want to take the stairs. I want to get a T-shirt. Or a fancy bag.

What do you like better: Spring Street or Prince Street?

Forgetting is essential for memory. If you do not think so, think again.

We should try hanky panky at an earlier hour. Moonbeams keep trying to enter my ass.

Amerika is a smorgasbord.

All my Czech relatives cannot believe I am really here. Times Square 24/7. This is not Prague.

I eat chicken & broccoli in garlic sauce. I eat cold sesame noodles in peanut sauce. I sip ginger ale. My fortune cookie says: Nookie is unlikely.

I throw all the clear plastic packets of sauces into the garbage. I feel so guilty.

I kiss the small of your back. Then I go lower.

We are riding the M-86 Crosstown Bus. Our lives could not be better. We do not know it. Not a single passenger does. You scribble into a notebook. I squeeze your hand.

Time is like a Doomsday Clock. I prefer not to know.

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R.G. Vasicek is the author of THE DEFECTORS (J.New Books, 2020). He is losing his mind in NYC. He is also becoming a Twittering Machine (Die Zwitscher-Maschine) at @rg_vasicek.

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