This Is the Part Where I Tell You Something You Didn’t Know
Ethan Bernard
A guy walking by on the
street tells me I carry my meaning in my pocket. Next to my wallet? No, he
says, up in the front on the right. You have X-ray vision?
I ask. He shakes his head. That’s the place you wear your energy, man.
I stop. Weird, you know, because I’m left-handed and I can’t think
of anything I carry next to my meaning other than lint. The pocket is pretty
small, though, and I guess meaning needs space or something. I start again,
on to the place where I’m going, but can feel the meaning getting heavier
until I’m walking lopsided. Oh, I rummage and find a chewing gum wrapper
that still smells like spearmint. I shake the wrapper in my right hand and
wheel around, ready to tell that guy what he is carrying. But he’s
moved on. It’s a big city. I want to wear my energy on the outside.
Return to Archive
|