FOUR WHEELS AND A FLY SWATTER Alicia DeSimone
the other day i was driving and the clouds parted so i could see the sky. the sky was blue, like candy, sugar-blue. it was surprising, vibrant, grounding. i was sucked into myself. i felt like i’d just woken up, snapped out of it. the haze. i feel so hazy all the time — being my very own fly on my very on wall. when i’m alone i speak out loud so i can hear myself. i take big breaths, i say dumb words. i am reminded that i contribute to the world, i add some noise, some hot air. when i’m alone i wave my arms around. i spread my legs. i take up space because i want to take up more space. i operate in the world, i move through it. i want to get in the way and scream and make a scene. i want to swat at myself, fly on my wall. splat. awake. behind the wheel, sugar-blue sky. there is a sigh. i miss feeling like wet clay, spinning. shaped by even the slightest things that touch me. 29
Quaranzine
