Everything Is Awful and You're a Terrible Person

by Daniel Zomparelli

  “Not a monster, but definitely a terrible person.”

  The next day I expected a message, but nothing. I wasn’t sure if you thanked someone for a hookup or at least acknowledged it happened.

  We were in the Halifax Citadel museum, and R and C were trying on colonial costumes and taking photos when I stopped and looked at my feet with intense concentration.

  “Come on, Danny. Put on a maid’s outfit.”

  “No, those things are gross.”

  We moved toward the open square of the Citadel. Several people playing historic characters were leading tours. A man kept asking one of the tour leaders what their life was like, and he attempted to answer, but his cell phone went off and he answered it.

  I turned to C. “Would it be rude to ask the guy I hooked up with last night what his name is?”

  ***

  I scooped up the ocean water and poured it out. I walked further out into the ocean. Bioluminescence lit each step. I looked over to see R and C’s bodies outlined by the night’s sky. I moved in deep enough that my head was being enveloped in the water. I couldn’t feel the ground, and the taste of salt dribbled into my mouth. I thought about how easy it would be to let me body drift off. How simple an action death could be. Darkness pooled around my eyes.

  “Come back, Danny, you’re too far out.”

  I dropped down into the water, let my feet hit the ground to kick back up and broke through the water to inhale. I swam back toward the beach, the awful ocean sliding off my back.

  everything was okay. you were here

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Thank you to those who read earlier versions of this book, including Zoe Whittall—thanks for your notes. And thank you to the shame club—Clayton Dach, Katharine Guerin, and Jonathan Turner—for reading drafts of many of these stories.

  To my writing soul-mate, Dina Del Bucchia, thank you for taking this book to places I couldn’t imagine, for your suggestions, your book recommendations, and your solidarity in rage.

  Thank you to Jen Sookfong Lee, Vivek Shraya, and John Early for writing kind things about the book. Thank you to Arsenal Pulp Press for taking this book on—Brian, Robert, Susan, Oliver, and Cynara (for both her friendship and support). Truly a dream team.

  Thank you to my family and friends for your support. Thank you to new additions to the family, the Liedmans and Julie, for your help and for endless Prosecco.

  To my future husband Gabe; thank you for walking out of my dreams and into my life.

  This book was written for Tina, my late sister who passed when I was very young and for my mother Simira, whom we lost recently. I’m sorry if I wake you in your sleep.

  And, as always, thank you, for reading this book.

  PHOTO: LUKE FONTANA

  Daniel Zomparelli is the Editor-in-Chief of Poetry Is Dead magazine and co-podcaster at Can’t Lit. He also co-edits After You, a collaborative poetry project. He is the author of the poetry collections Davie Street Translations and (with Dina Del Bucchia) Rom Com, both published by Talonbooks.