They leave a mes­sage. Well. Tommy has Tami call. She says hi Ty. Tommy wanted me to let you know that we’re doing another Poetry Explo­sion event in the spring and he’d like you to read. Right now we’re look­ing at two ven­ues. One holds 300 people and the other 500. Either way the crowd should be more than decent.

I hear Tami ruffle papers. She goes So-and-So is read­ing that night. And Blah Blah from NYC con­firmed yes­ter­day. Plus Tommy’s also talk­ing to [BEEN IN MOVIES] out in Cali­for­nia who is ori­gin­ally from here and she might get involved.

Basic­ally we think you’ll fit in per­fectly with those people.

She sighs. Tami is hot. She’s like Italian or some­thing but dyes her hair blonde. It totally works. Every­one hits on her. Check that. I never have. But in all hon­esty I some­times fuck her in my mind when I’m touch­ing myself.

Listen. I can’t go out for strange any­more. Like I can’t simply bump into someone some­where and end up going home with her. I don’t know when or why this star­ted but at this point in my life I’m phys­ic­ally unable. I know it sounds crazy but thoughts of germs and kiss­ing and smells over­ride my every desire.

My burnin burnin fires.

It’s sad. My fears totally lock me in my room a lot of the time.

Only the Inter­net ok.

I can only mas­turb­ate to the Internet.

Tami clears her throat. She goes all right I think that’s about it. A few seconds pass. Then she goes

Oh. Jeez. I almost for­got. All poets and writers will be paid but we’re ask­ing that you keep in mind this is a bene­fit to keep [NAME OF SOME BLDG.] free from demolition.

She goes it’s like the greatest bldg. ever and we can’t let them take it down in the name of gentri­fic­a­tion ok.

Oh and the drinks will be free.

After that my voice­mail cuts off.

I go am I sup­posed to call her back or what. A girl from the uni­ver­sity is watch­ing tv on my couch. Her body is long and thin. She looks at me and goes call who back baby?

The girl is hold­ing the tv remote. She mutes the sound. Her blue eyes shine even in the semi-darkness.

I go some people that want me to enter­tain 3–5 hun­dred people for pea­nuts. Well. For a cause. But there is always a cause I suppose.

Yeah she says. There’s always a cause.

After that I put the phone down. They want me to read in the spring keeps run­ning through my mind. The girl is long and lay­ing on her back. She has that look on her face. She opens her mouth a little and shows me the tip of her tongue.

You know her I tell myself. It’s ok. You’ve been over every part of her body. This. Girl. Is. Clean.

I count to three in my head. Then I exhale slowly.

Go take a shower I tell her. And make sure you use lots of soap.

Tyrell Augus­tus Blue­smith III writes some crazy ass shit at Inter­net Addic­tion Word Ther­apy and PIFFLE. He likes to fuck robots in his spare time. He has two degrees but remains unable to repay his stu­dent loans. Mostly he’s a broke mack but lots of girls like his writ­ing so the poverty totally doesn’t bother him all that much.