It started on my Facebook page, the “poking” thing… And now, well, it is at the point where I am showing my other-people-of-flesh his photo on Facebook under the table at restaurants, cheap diners, gas stations, airplanes, in elevators, under lost continents, and so on.
The mal
es-of-flesh in my life hold no malice—they are carefree and accepting of WHO I AM. We giggle and dance around… and my husband—when we look at Mr. McNaughty’s photo at night, in bed together—says, “Wow, that is a handsome guy.”
People-of-flesh can relate, but only to a point. I can’t help whispering, “Mr. McNaughty and I… can’t stop poking,” to pretty much everybody who meanders by. When I tell my mother she says, “Juney, Juney, I am sick to my stomach.” I’m done calling her.
My closest girlfriends-of-flesh, when not obsessing about how many winsome-looking Irishmen they have poked or are about to poke—or are being poked by—listen and nod their heads. They look like constipated librarians.
I say, “Yes, and it just keeps happening, and so far…er…really there is no down side,” and they say, “Ha! Just wait!” But they are all doing it, hypocrites.
Last weekend I planted, arranged, and misted peat moss in pots. I linger near them often to feel the Irish breeze, and I imagine Mr. McNaughty in a starry meadow somewhere far away, poking and re-poking me, until his battery dies.
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Meg Pokrass has authored four collections of flash fiction and an award winning book of prose poetry. Her work has appeared in 220 literary journals and anthologies (W.W. Norton, 2015). Meg won the Blue Light Book Award in 2015. Her most recent collection, The Dog Looks Happy Upsidedown was recently reviewed by TSS here. You can also read our interview with Meg here.
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