Football Crowd #2 — Jay Waters
HOW TO BE HUMAN ON A FRIDAY NIGHT
— Shawnacy Kiker Perez
Cut the grass. Take the clippings inside and make a nest. Discover that a grass nest is not
as comfortable as you had imagined. In fact, it is quite itchy. Light it on fire. Spin slowly
in the ashes of your living room drinking wine—don’t worry if some of it spills—while
listening to music of your choosing. Turn up the bass so high your skeleton throbs.
Decide to go out; catch the game and have a few beers with your boys. Realize you don’t
have any boys. Make a note to acquire some boys as soon as possible. Steal your
neighbor’s hammock. Take it to the park or the art museum courtyard, or to the roof of the
post office or a busy corner downtown. Tie it up between two trees, or two lampposts,
or two sculptures, or a mailbox and a One Way sign, or ask two strangers to hold the ends
for you. Pick up the first person to pass by and place them in the hammock. Ask them to
close their eyes and imagine they are in a boat. Ask them where the boat is taking them.
Lie underneath the hammock and be the ocean. Keep adding more people to the
hammock until it is full or someone mentions either Jupiter or Japan. These are your
secret words. When you hear them, hand out slices of cactus apple cake. Notice that
someone has begun to play music. Dance together. Hug and kiss your passengers. Tell
them they are here. They have made it. Give them whatever they need for their new life.
Including money. Watch them spread across the world like a garden. Like new weather.
Pee in a bush. Never return.