|April 25, 2013|
by Elias Tezapsidis
In Bushwick we partied.
She liked to brag about Stuy
We drove together in a U-Haul.
She always said ‘is’ for him
But after our Stephen Shore adventure
I understand she meant ‘was’
In Ann-Arbor we stopped.
She liked the way I smelled when tired
Now I smell fresh and we don’t party and we don’t stop
but when she ‘he is’ I know because she can’t ‘he was’
Some mornings I wish she were blonde so that when she leaves I wouldn’t have to pick
up the hairs she left behind.
When I think about why I am so intrigued by her I can never explain. When I stop, I
party, and get tired and wake up some mornings.
About the Author:
Elias grew up in Thessaloniki, Greece, prior to attending Macalester College in Saint Paul, Minnesota. It was there that he discovered he was too neurotic and OCD for the Midwest and had a low-tolerance for the MN-nice. The move to NYC post-graduation seemed like the logical next step, and since then downtown New York has been home.
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As much as death signals the end of the self, birth is just as mysterious. Both extend out to infinity and signal the brevity and contingency of our lives. As mysterious are those first few years of life that one does not have access to as an adult, I know I existed before my earliest memories. I know I interacted with others, I learned to walk and talk. I was willful from my parent’s tales.
William Pope.L: Reader Friendly
William Pope.L is famous for (among other things) carrying a business card that identifies him as “The Friendliest Black Artist in America.” It’s a clever gag because it makes itself true, in a way, every time it draws people closer. The card must be especially useful when Pope.L does business with people who dread Black men or Black artists.
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