I still live at my parents’ house/leaking tv metadata
You come over and lie on the bed with me
since I do not have accommodations for
seating more than one person
we joke that we are lying together in a coffin
we stare up at the tv above the dresser beside
we watch netflix or torrented movies
sometimes we watch good depressing movies
from like japan or norway
mostly we watch mainstream movies
and saturday night live
and we immediately forget all the skits
since they are forgettable
and we agree we should use our time better
and watch better things
or never watch anything
but then we watch saturday night live again.
And even though I am fucked up
and feel that I shouldn’t be in relationships
and don’t want to be in long term relationships
I like the thought of us lying together on
￼my bed pretending it’s a coffin
as downstairs my parents watch Fox News
or The Good Wife.
You wanted to walk at the park
we drove to the park ‘there are too many people’ I said
we drove around for forty minutes
looking at the sky and artificial lakes
‘I want to walk’ you said.
I drove the car to Randall’s.
I parked the car.
We got out and walked on the sidewalk beside the bayou.
We didn’t talk much.
We stared at dead trees.
We looked at a broken piece of sidewalk that had ‘Ants →’ spray painted in blue.
While taking a picture of a dead tree I stepped in an ant bed.
You swatted a fire ant off my shoe.
You pointed out electrical boxes that had been graffitied to look like giant robot faces.
You noticed the way the setting sun lined a huge cloud with gold.
I took pictures of new spy equipment the police department had installed on a telephone pole. We stood on the bridge.
I took a picture of you.
You tried not to smile ‘I am trying not to smile.
I want the picture to look real.’ you said.
Behind you the golden clouds were disappearing.
I basically want my head to be removed
surgically with a laser beam that cauterizes
the bottom of my neck.
I don’t want like veins dangling
or anything disgusting/gruesome.
Strange men with purple high-grade latex gloves
wearing hazmat suits typically reserved for
biohazard level 4 viral hemorrhagic diseases
will place my head in an airtight jar.
It will be like futurama only I will never talk or cry.
Eventually I will forget how to blink and breathe.
I want your head to be removed
in a general nonviolent manner
and placed in a jar next to my jar
we will be unable to communicate
or make eye contact
we will be unable to turn our heads
we will stare at a sterile white wall
for hundreds of years.
If I am capable of emotions
it might be a nice thought
the fact that your severed head
is next to my severed head.
Trey Pharis lives, sleeps, works on computers, writes and frequently checks his email in Houston. He sporadically tweets @skeletonsaurus. More info at http://treypharis.info
Cover Photo: “Elastic Mood” by Fabio Sassi (http://www.fabiosassi.foliohd.com/)