The Landlord Should Probably Get Venmo

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Jesse Della Riley

 
 

Everything dies & people are shitty

& they make each other feel bad

and that’s bad

but my new apartment seems alright.

I moved my stuff in this morning.

There’s old carpet, some stains

that look like beer but could be anything,

really.  The kitchen’s a little sticky.

I could probably fit a dog in here,

you know, if I have time to walk it.

There are things I’ve escaped.

I want to believe those places in me have died.

Most dead things take up a lot of space.

All of this comes from a twitter thread I read this morning.

I know I’m unoriginal and steal things.

I also think people are shitty,

but this is unoriginal too.  My whole generation

thinks that.  At least the ones on the internet,

which really just means the people I follow

on twitter.  We’re all detached

& smart & have weird expectations.

I think it was the position of Uranus

when we were born that caused this.

How is work going.

I built my bed, and it took longer than an hour.

Holding the middle frame and the four sides all at once

so I could nail in a single screw was the hard part.

I am always finding myself with harmless people

who deserve tenderness.  I want to hate something living.

I have a hard time hating abusers unironically.

The apartment doesn’t care.

Just asks us to be well enough to write a check

& seal its walls with plaster.

Be through with it.

This is more about the landlord

than the apartment, so I’m really saying

I don’t know anything about the walls we’re living in.

I asked about how to pay rent

& we have to write paper checks before the 1st.

We will figure this out.

The bathroom, by the way, had a cockroach,

and I was afraid to kill it.  I don’t know where it went.

I am hoping I will sleep better here than at my last place.

But you worry too much & though I love you

I’m scared I cannot give you anything.

We should probably get married sometime.

That is the law & the law is full of dreams.

I get turned on by it.

I have been trying to attend to my own body,

but there is no easy method for this.

I like humor, and so does Twitter.

Laughing is a kind of over the counter medicine,

and I would welcome a conversation about the weather,

you know, if you get home early and it’s still sunny out.

How do you make your body get up in the morning.

I want to learn how you fall asleep.

I want to learn how you laugh when you

accidentally hit caps lock and something

expands into a drama.  I want to learn

how a cherry stem stains your fingers

if you order a milkshake.  What does

sand look like on your cheeks.  There’s

a phrase you say over and over again.  I

want to hear you say it for years.  Maybe

tell me the types of plants you want in a garden.

And what TV you fall asleep to.  The place

you go when you feel like the world’s pretty OK.

Do you know the weather for tomorrow?