THE LOST TAPES Vol.18

  Took a cheap UberX downtown. Christian-Bale-looking driver, spent the entire trip mumbling something to himself, to the rhythm of the radio’s commercials, like a drinking game he played alone, that is, without everything that makes a drinking game actually fun. Didn’t spare me a single moment of attention, too. Always combing his shiny hair back, sometimes jamming off beat to the song playing, whispering the lyrics, grunting when he got it wrong. Slapping the stick and the wheel in distress, after a while.
   At the end of the trip I asked if he had change for a 20 — 15 what I had to pay — and he turns to me in the most kind and warm tone, says of course, and takes a perfect 5 out of the wallet — like fresh out of the bank — before wishing me good luck and a good day, with a big white smile of perfect teeth.

***

   Why is my heart fished always by the same kind of girl? Brunette, shoulder-length hair, pale white skin. But at the same time, you see, there are so many of them and, trust me, they are all the same. Same ways, same tastes, same taste. Nothing outside the ordinary. But still, and god help me, my heart breaks every time one of them doesn’t look back at me. That is, at any corner I turn; sat at the bus stop, every five minutes, sometimes less. For how common they are, really, my heart is always in shambles[...]

***

   How lovely is summer in the big city
   So much very green in so many very specific places   

   Ice cream shops are crammed sardine cans
   Cafés don’t even sell café
   Shaved ice stands pop out of nowhere as a new obstacle to passersby
   And the vast majority of the population is still in jeans and longsleeves   

   "But please, don’t pay attention to that"
   To the homeless children and hard workers
   And admire the charming femininity of the rich heirs living in the most luxurious of buildings surrounding the big park
   Taking their deformed dogs up and down
   Scrolling through Instagram under a tree
   Setting pique-nique tables to eat branded fruit and drink a 5$ iced tea cup under the heat of five suns
   Oh, wait, the tables are shaded, their ice doesn't melt
   What isn’t shaded is the construction site a few steps ahead where five Bob, the Builders work to install a new marble fountain
   Dreaming of the rice and beans, maybe a fried egg, souring inside their lunch boxes 

   Admire all those pretty white ladies
   Very English, yes, very French, very distinct
   Rocking expensive sunglasses, maybe a Versace bucket hat
   Wait, isn’t that the new Barocco collection?
   Isn’t that a thousand-dollar crop top?
   A goddamn golden Rolex? My goodness... 

   What? Oh, sorry, Mr. dirty black homeless man wearing rags, I never take money with me.
   And I could read his thoughts, salivating by the mere sight of those juicy, plump, pesticide-riddled apples
   Wondering how much crack cocaine he could get for that brand new iPhone 13
   But later realizing he still wants to live at least a couple more years in freedom, and just telling her to go fuck herself and slurring away 

   Custom-made luxury attire I could sew in an afternoon
   Names validating styles, fashion by fame, not quality
   Beautiful thick thighs, skin so soft you just want to feel it with your face
   Floral summer dresses I wish I could use outside
   Instead of this grayish black shirt to avoid pettiness

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