T: Like, how are we still arguing about this shit? Equality? Freedom? Pursuit of happiness, am I right?


A: I know, man.


B: Ugh I know!




T: And then we pat ourselves on the backs for being so “progressive”, like congrats on recognizing basic human rights.


B: I’m always saying the same thing! I just think that-




B: Oh, uh, sorry?


T: But what are supposed to do? What are we supposed to think? When everyone is basically a big stereotype of themselves. How are we supposed to abandon cliches?


B: I know, I know! It’s like, I’m a strong, independent, confident woman… but i do suck at driving




T: it’s crazy, man.


A: I know… like, the shit we’re still arguing about is insane.


T: I’m just not sure why straight conservative white men want to pee with the transgendered so badly?




A: woah.


T: what the hell?


A: shut up. Shut up… I can’t hear him. Thanks. Thanks everyone.


T: he just said we’re stuck, asshole.




B: I’m the girl with the chipped neon nail polish. The one without the umbrella. The one who’ll argue the pass interference call until you hate my guts. The one who buys earrings from the planetarium and has the majority of biggie’s debut album ready to die memorized.

I’m not a victim of circumstance. I’m not a victim of any kind.

I never meant to be white

I never meant to be female

But that’s what I am, right? That’s who I am.

But I mean what I think

And I mean what I say

The spirit in me has nothing and everything to do with me being a woman

I try to start every day with graciousness, humility and fearlessness. I’m not afraid of heights. I’m not afraid of snakes. I’m definitely not afraid of spiders, I fucking love spiders. I’m not afraid of bats or scorpions or sharks or failure or public speaking. I’m not afraid of dying.

I’m afraid of being trapped. Small spaces. Not moving. Can’t get out. Can’t escape. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. This isn’t good. Come on. Come on. No, okay, oh there we go.




T: yo


A: yo


B: yes?


T: you want my seat?


A: here, take a seat


B: no, that’s alright. I’m fine.


T: come on, I’m giving you my seat.


A: you’re not gonna take my seat?


B: nah, i’d rather stand.


T: what a bitch


A: that bitch didn’t even say thank you.


T: they wonder why chivalry is dead.


A: bitch.


T: move bitch


A: get out the way


T: get out the way bitch


A: get out the way


B: excuse me?


A: alright dude, that’s probably enough, she looks a little upset.


T: man up


A: man up


T: stop being a pussy


A: stop being a pussy


T: act like a lady, think like a man


A: think like a man


T: she’s not that hot anyway.


A: nah.


T: i mean, not terrible


A: like i’m not gonna complain if she’s standing there


T: i mean tits are tits.


A: tits are tits.


B: awesome. Thanks so much, guys.


T: where you going?


A: sweetie, hunny, baby


B: fuck off, alright


T: oh that looks so ugly on you


A: you’re much cuter when you smile


B: just leave me alone, ok?


T: come on


A: sit down


T: calm down


A: just calm down


T: relax


A: calm down




T: seriously


A: you’re not going anywhere


T: it doesn’t have to be so bad


A: you’re making this pretty difficult


T: man up


A: man up


T: stop being a pussy


A: stop being a pussy


B: and how exactly would you like me to stop being a pussy? That’s my brand, right? You can see it sticking out of my chest, right? I can’t stop. I can’t. Tell me, if you can, if it’s possible, how i can be both attractive and respected. Tell me why i should “think like a man” when i have a powerful, valuable screaming lady brain inside my head. It’s fucked to think that i have this brain inside me, I know what i’m capable of, I know the poetry i have just fucking brimming and yet I know the intense number of minutes that i’ve spent of my precious life thinking about my calves being too big. That’s what you’ve done to me. So, I can’t man up. No, actually, I won’t.


T: wow, I guess I never really thought about it like that.


A: and these bitches wonder why they’re still single…


T: oh yeah, that’s right, bitch, man up. Stop being a pussy.




B: There is a meekness and a quietness and a supposed to that i never learned

I shot a hole through the layers of my asinine confidence

An aim at crashing

At a “bring it on” not to be messed with

How else could i prove our strength

Besides taking on the universe

When you’ve been honored as equal and capable your whole life, it’s pretty ugly to realize the truth of the matter

It’s amazing how many ways you can feel small

But in order to fight oppression, you have to recognize oppression.

So, I wasn’t even sad

I wasn’t

I realized

That my eyes were my brain

And my ears were my brain

And my mouth was my brain

But my heart

Was my heart

Was my heart

I was the sum of my parts

And then some

But, I’m not sure where i’ve been putting my strong emotions. I’m more like a trash compactor than anything else.




A: oooooh fresh meat


T: you smell that?


A: i smell it


T: fresh. Like the sadness has barely left the skin.


B: are you talking about me?


T: welcome, welcome.


A: we’re glad you’ve finally made it.


T: oooh you are just brimming with it.


B: with what?


A: you smell that?


T: i smell it


B: smell what? Brimming with what?


T: you’ve made it to the right car.


T & A: that is clear


B: what are you talking about? Wait, aren’t you the bros who were just-


T: Welcome, welcome. You’ve made it. To the train of unused love.


B: The train of-


T & A: Unused Love.


T: Used-up sadness and unused love.


B: those go to the same place? That’s so depressing.


T: things aren’t depressing here. Not unless you let them be.


B: well i don’t belong here anyway.


A: you don’t think so?


T: Why can’t you make them care? How come no one wants to care?

A preoccupation operation where you realized you changed much more than you meant to


A: There’s power in understanding you don’t actually want what you thought you wanted


T: Believing in something is different than having something to believe in.


A: Connection through obligation isn’t really much of a connection, is it?


B: I… I… I feel something in my gut that simply won’t become words


T: Did you ever have one of those jaw breakers as a kid, the ones the size of a fucking baseball, the kind you lick and lick and lick for real like seriously your tongue starts bleeding like you couldn’t stop and the layers wouldn’t stop and your jaw wasn’t broken yet even if your tongue was fucking bleeding so all the colors are tinged with a faint pink. You remember those?


B: yeah?


T: so, I dunno, it’s something like that.


B: I don’t get it


A: you’re the jawbreaker


T: no, you’re the blood.


B: what?


A: Imagine standing on top of a huge hill. Everything has gone to shit, there’s nothing but dried up moss and dried up grass and dried up trees. It’s desolate, it’s desperate. It looks just about hopeless but then you spot this patch of amazingly green grass. You run to it. The grass is the softest and greenest and most glorious grass you’ve ever seen. It’s like a bed. You could just sleep there for the rest of your life in the amazingly bright grass bed in the middle of the drought.


T: You’re the bedspread.


A: no, you’re the drought.


B: ok, ok. Um, so let’s say there’s a trash compactor.  And I’m completely aware of everything that’s going in there, right? The peach pits and the coffee grounds and the cheez-it boxes and the q-tips and the banana peels and the ziplock bags and the credit card statements and the rotten avocados. I can feel them compressing right, getting packed tighter and tighter, I can feel them. So… I’m the trash compactor, right?


T & A: No, you’re the coffee grounds!


B: WHAT? I gotta get out of here.


T: So, all that wasted love, where have you been putting it? Huh? We’ve never seen you before.


B: I don’t think I have any.


T: oh come on


B: what? I’m not that old. I’m not!


T: Uh-huh


B: And I give tons of love anyway! I don’t have any unused, I swear! I don’t belong here!


T: But I’m sure some of your sadness has to be here, you can’t deny that.


B: But I shouldn’t have to face that! That’s not right! I don’t belong here!


T: You don’t need to get defensive. Everyone belongs here.


B: Not me. I have a handle on my sadness, on my love. I’m in charge. I’m in control. You don’t know me. I don’t belong here.


A: Then why are you here?




B: Their charts weren’t my charts

And their graphs weren’t my graphs

And i think either way

Their numbers were way off

I couldn’t decide if it was more important

To like something or to love something

I couldn’t decide

Why all of a sudden those seemed like such different things

Sometimes i want to be sad

And i just end up neutral

I didn’t want to want anymore

And i didn’t want to have

And i certainly did not want to be neutral.




T: oh dear, you scared me. Oh hun, wasn’t that so scary?


A: (grunts, mumbles)


B: ok, guys, what the hell is this?


T: excuse me, dear?


B: I said what the hell is this?


T: oh my, I don’t think there’s any need for that kind of language. Don’t you agree, hun?


A: (grunts, mumbles)


B: ok, I’m sorry. Um, what are you making?


T: Oh, nothing. Just passing the time. Why do you have that look in your eyes?


B: What look?


T: My, my, my. Do you see that, hun?


A: (grunts, mumbles)


B: What look?


T: It’s like you lost something. Do you have everything?


B: Everything but my mind.


T: Oh would you like me to knit one up for you?


B: Well that’s very sweet but, um… I just wanna figure out the point of this one and move on.


T: The point of this one?


B: Yeah, I just figured you’d have some sort of convoluted lesson or moral or some shit.


T: Well, dear, that’s not a very nice way to spend a conversation.


B: I just… I guess I’m not all that concerned with being nice anymore.


T: Wow. Did you hear that, hun?


A: (grunts, mumbles)


T: Ok, you want a lesson?


B: Sure.


T: First of all, don’t underestimate nice. Don’t underestimate time. Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answer to. And don’t do anything that makes you want something in return. Growing up is a lot like paying taxes.  It’s going to feel like you’re constantly giving, giving, giving… and at the end of the year, you have to give even more. But sometimes, you’ll get a big return on everything you’ve been giving. But don’t count on it.


B: That’s bleak.


T: But it’s not. We don’t do things to get something back… that’s the burden we share. But just know, that in the end, it’s about teamwork. Money, children, simply living year after year… it doesn’t matter who’s on your team. But you’ve got to have one.


B: Ok.


T: There are million ways to feel powerful, my dear. Never forget that.




B: I feel roots when I stand

Well, mobile roots

Along for the ride

Like the forest I missed so badly, left behind

It’s still there, making noise, theologically speaking

Bracing myself for broken daydreams

Inevitable but temporary

Another chapter, come and gone

But I would stay the main character, just watch




B: Alright, guys, what now?


T & A: Yeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh




T & A: Yeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh




T: (sings) how bout some music

Yeah, How bout a song

With one little diddy

We’ll all get along

Hey! How bout some music

to fill up the brain

We wouldn’t want our precious girl

Going insane


B: come on


T: You’re more than an object

You’re more than a toy

I’m sure he didn’t mean it

Right? Boys will be boys

So smile, sit back

Relax with a song

We get it. We get it.

You’re independent

You’re strong

You’re lucky, your freedom

Is yours for the taking

It’s only been 6,000 years

In the making


T & A: Sh! Don’t let them know

You were right all along

It’s easier to swallow

Don’t you think? With a song

Shhh! Don’t let them know

You were right all along

It’s easier to swallow

Don’t you think? With a song


B: I don’t wanna sing

I don’t wanna rhyme

Hey anyone! Hey anything!

I need more air! I need more time!

With the walls closing in

And a stall on the track

My brain’s panicking

My heart’s under attack


I’m the kind of girl who rarely gets scared

Seeming on top of it

Always unprepared

A backdrop on purpose

Cuz too much too soon

I begin to surface

BAM i’m on the moon


B: I don’t wanna sing                        T & A: Shh! Don’t let them know

I don’t wanna rhyme                                           you were right all along

Hey anyone! Hey anything!                                 It’s easier to swallow

I need more air, I need more time                      don’t you think, with a song

I don’t wanna sing                                               Shh! Don’t let them know

I don’t wanna rhyme                                           you were right all along

Hey anyone! Hey anything!                                It’s easier to swallow

I need more air, I need more time                     don’t you think, with a song


B: STOP! STOP! This is getting out of control!




B: space was suffocating me

as level as scripted conversation

i backed out on my star contract

i reneged that meteor deal

black holes kept calling...i didn’t pick up


breathing became my boyfriend

i was queen of affection

i was queen of attention

i was queen, oh i was queen

femininity was mine for the taking

so fuck all you suckaaaaaaaas


i knew all about magic

cuz i believed in magic

i knew all about style

cuz i believed in style

i knew all about words

cuz i believed in words


what i knew and what i believed

started fucking, couldn’t stay friends

oh it was all messed up


i thought, by the time I grew up

There’d be more words

thought light would be liquid

thought money’d be morbid

thought people would be free


i write poems so i can become them

not like a weirdo

more like a transcendentalist


sometimes i become convinced my leg muscles

are too long for my legs

sometimes i become convinced

of a lot of things


i was rather misconstrued about how i would feel in the world on my own

but i’m not mad

i used to think it’d make me mad

and i’m not even sad

i thought for a while, i’d get real sad

but, i guess,

when i’m all of it

and when i’m none of it

when i’m a midwest winter

when i’m a brooklyn ice cream truck

when i’m roots, trunks, branches

when i’m leaves only leaves

if if then then

i’ll get less scared

and i’ll see it all decorated

in the way i imagined




B: Yes! Guys, it’s fixed! It’s fixed! We’re gonna be ok! Guys, guys… oh. Um. ok. Guys?