The people in the thrift store todaycircle, slow-moving but determined sharks,each one intent on making a scorethat justifies some of the daysspent on the factory floor,in the restaurant, kitchen or at the counter,or sitting in the lobby of the temp agency,waiting for the bell to ringand their reward to drop. I find two dress shirtsand two pairs of slacks.No holes, rips, or stains.I feel like I’m holdinga winning scratch-off ticket.Fingering some carnival glass,I take in the whole …

waiting on line for a sex party, sebas and igo back and forth inventing partieswe’d rather be attending—what we’d throwif money, physics, and law were alldifferent animals: a vaccine and hormonedistro-party with a cry-floor and dance-bathroom. a party where we assemblearms and storm the pharmaceuticalheadquarters stoned in hand-stoned gowns.a party where we dance on the ceilingbefore flooding the streets to shatterthe windows of every living waymo.conflagration party. extrication …