Homage to Joe Brainard

all good ideas should be copied...6/27/23

I remember moving to New York.

I remember the Danish town in California with the windmills.

I remember spending the night at my grandparents’ when my parents were out of town or busy. I remember we watched TV, ate Jolly Pirate jelly donuts, and drank Kroger chocolate milk.

I remember how my grandpa’s voice sounded. He spoke very rarely and his voice was faint.

I remember my grandpa collected loose change and stored it in large glass jars which sat in the computer room and gathered dust.

I remember sitting at the Masterworks office a few weeks ago, and explaining the process of collecting coins and depositing them into Coinstar machines in order to get fast cash to a girl named Amani. Amani is from India and doesn’t know the difference between a dime and a nickel.

I remember cornering a baby deer against a chain-link fence. I remember the guttural noise it made.

I remember earlier today when I got on the wrong train. I was angry at myself at first.

I remember getting Chinese food in Spain with my friends. The restaurant was called Chino Misterioso, a name which is vaguely racist.

I remember when I went to the Little Red Lighthouse on the Hudson River. I felt astonished because I didn’t know New York could look like that. It was a muggy summer day, the day before the Fourth of July.

I remember Isabella and I, fourteen and swinging on swings behind my house, talking about how we wanted to smoke weed but we didn’t know how to get it.

I remember landlines. I still remember Isabella’s home phone number 885-2616.

I remember Alex told me she snorted cocaine off of a man’s penis. I remember trying to play it cool but I was shocked and embarrassed.

I remember the first time I did cocaine was the day Joe Biden was elected President.

I remember how it felt when my parents decided to take us out to dinner after a long day.