Gloria.

one frozen night in long island city, running at full speed down an empty, bowling alley sidewalk. running so fast that the scorching tears that aren’t coming out from behind my eyes are a few blocks back, chasing me. it was like in the movies – frantic down a dark alley with no door at the end and i hear footsteps coming at me. hands can’t work to open the gate, my hat flies off at one point. i am the opposite of celebrity. and when i finally get inside to an empty and strange apartment, all breaks loose. my hands still won’t work to dial a phone but when they do, nothing comes out. are you hurt? he asks. did someone attack you?

yeah, i want to say. 

but no one did.

i am the opposite of celebrity. so in my head, all the time. unable to come out. so i slept it off, and dreamt i had a baby.  

i was on a getaway train when we got our new president. i was crossing a state line, just like always.