Varnished New World One morning, sometime between spring and pandemic, before the summer came hustling from the harbor islands, I went for a walk down to the river where I found a glazed chiaroscuro of discarded masks and condoms and a pair of those black gloves I use when I mix epoxy to fill cracks and knots in the salvaged wood I gather from behind dumpsters at job sites. An east wind tugged at my uncombed hair, long now, not because the barbers have shut, but because if I ever see my friends again I want to tell them I’m protesting this varnished new world, where, when my friends and I finally sit down and talk behind our masks, I won’t be able to see their smile. Found Monologue - Color When I do wear the mask, I’m told no one wears it better than I do. Looks good too. Blue is a complimentary color to orange. Very few know that. I know more about colors than most. Even color experts call me to ask my advice. I tell them I’m too busy. I tell them, look, it’s invi...
Like the title says.