Aside

the ways of the point of origin

For la cena today we had omelets from the eggs I had collected and potatoes I had fried, thinking of the Spanish speakers I’ve been close with heretofore, almost all of them standing over hot oil in New York City like now I do in rural Spain.

Patatas, my hosts here said while we ate and I played point-to-a-new-vocabulary-word. “Papas” is strictly American — North, Central, South — they said, as is “con gusto.”

I find myself feeling some loyalty to the Spanish — Mexican — Ecuadoran — Salvadoran — I’ve learned from coworkers back home, resistance to inculcation in the ways of the point of origin. Not my king, I want to say. 

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I studied the bulbs

After eating little Zaviera and I pulled weeds out front.

I studied the bulbs of what she dug up so I could do same with minimized error and thought how much easier it is to navigate something delicate like this with language to share and how, to my benefit in conditions to the contrary, seven is the perfect age to teach an elder in the garden by pantomime. 

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good morning to my first day at this casa rural

Good morning to my first full day at this casa rural that has no address. Dreams about drinking rosé in weirdly unbreakable glasses. Woke to pee and then couldn’t sleep again for a while for all my anxieties about new heights of isolation. Finally put my last bandaid on the cut on my finger from trying to open my beer in unorthodox and ill-conceived ways yesterday on the bus from San Sebastián, which during my sleep had grown dry and painful, and that comfort let me drift back off, into dreams about meeting men for photoshoots and elaborate breakfasts, a dual impossibility for the foreseeable waking future.

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I forgot to shut in the chickens

I forgot to shut in the chickens last night, and this morning I woke up to the crowing of cock. Are the two related? I can’t remember whether yesterday, cooped up, he did. I jumped up and went out, all worried about being caught in negligence so early in this exchange of work for keep — whoops — and cajoled them, all enthusiasm and wet feathers about being out all night in the rain, back into their enclosure using unscheduled bonanza feed. Then I chopsticked egregious chicken shit from the patio stones, thinking about any other tells I could try to erase and get away with it, just this once, I promise. I hope it’s okay, that no chickens are found lost today to coyotes or whatever apex fowl predator prowls these chilly Spanish hills. 

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cgi catalan lizard

Tonight I finally met Gael, and he’s amazing. Has these crazy wide-set eyes in something like topaz that he blinks probably one-third as often as most humans blink their eyes, like some kind of beautiful CGI Catalan lizard. I want to put a long-stemmed rose between his teeth every second that there isn’t one. He took me to a great dinner somewhere fancy near University Square, and when I saw another table’s hoopla and made as if to tell the waiter that it was my companion’s birthday, too, Gael, unsmiling, unblinking, rose from his chair and got down on one knee beside mine to make an even bigger false scene. God I love being outsmarted. He has a whole plan about emigrating to the United States, a plan that involves marrying an Argentine flight attendant. After dinner we went outside to his motorcycle and he produced a helmet for me, which I put on backward, not even trying to be funny, just being a fucking idiot, and he laughed and laughed. Then I put it on correctly and we rode away and it was my turn to laugh but with the pleasure of the motion through the hot, still night. Later, we went to meet his visiting Polish manfriend in a gay bar with a redhead theme. The manfriend had a ladyfriend with him, also Polish, also gay, and he — the one of the two who spoke English — talked about her being on the prowl for shes, and we didn’t correct him because why would anyone ever put a stop to that? Since Gael had treated me to dinner, I treated him to a toro rojo sin azucar. The bored gay boi Barcelona bartender (not a redhead, btw) was not interested in my Spanish and was like, Okay do you want a lime?

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