Do you seriously not see her standing over there?
Over there with the shopping bags and the grocery cart?
Did you seriously not see?
Sometimes I ask God if the words we use make us physically unable to see.
If I am a Cracker, I become an object, like a Saltine. Excellent. One less person.
If I pretend that each and every one of the people I do not like is an object, I can achieve whatever I want.
I can become rich, famous, sexy, anything.
I can do or make or sell anything, so long as there is a profit in it.
I can print my own books and star on my own television channel.
I can do anything.
How much will you sell? That is what I wonder when I ask myself if I am a cracker. I can’t sell my soul for flour, water, and salt. I can’t do those things. I’m mostly protein, at least on the outside.
If I call you some dark, flesh-toned word, do I see you ever again? Real world ghosts living in real world sight.
Can I see you?
I think you have disappeared.
I think you are not a person.
Have you ever existed?
Do you visit me here, like a house elf, tidying my apartment when I oversleep?
Do you sit here in the parking lot, smoking one last cigarette before your break is over?
Do you sit here, in the water, standing side by side with me as we walk across it?
Would I let you pick me up?
Would I let you onto the water, my property?
These words and others brought to you by Ms. Saltine.