Fish to Fry

I live in a city that doesn’t want me. There are signs on every block, begging for me to leave. I love this city, but the traffic is too much, and it’s too far from the snow, and I leave when I can. Vanlife here is simple, I wake up to the sun and try to work, exercise, look good, eat good, meet more friends, and avoid the highways - I see what lurks underneath.

I go to the bar, my friends love drinking and dancing, so I will dance with them and I will forget. If I get too drunk, all I have to do is walk back to my van on a street nearby - and so I do to sleep it off. But I forgot to check these fucking signs, so I wake up to a ticket on my window, and an old man telling me to get the hell out of his street. I don’t fight it, i’m used to it. And so, I move my home because I can.

And I look at the ticket, and I wonder how these cops don’t have bigger fish to fry especially here. Then, I name them.

One fish. There’s a man who’s been on the street for 14 years. He didn’t have much, but there was a tent under an abandoned bridge - there was a community of them, and it stayed pretty peaceful there, quiet. The tractors weren’t quiet, though. They tore through the tents, and ran over the bags, and destroyed every inch of space being wasted. But he made a mistake before, he drank too much and did too many drugs. He became an addict, so he doesn’t deserve a home - even under a bridge where no one goes, even if he could quit, right? We should watch him freeze on a broken box on the curb, let it be a lesson for all who pass, right. Because we need to be scared of what could happen. Because at least it is not me.

Two fish. There is a trans-girl who knew who she was before it made much sense to her. Who tried to do the little that she could, raise her voice, do her makeup just to walk around the house and rip it off her face. But she isn’t careful one night, she feels too comfortable in her skin and her dad sees her. Before she can explain, she’s thrown out of the house at just sixteen. So, she wanders the streets, has found a new family - other dolls and queens. And she works, all night she works, because someone likes her how she is, but that isn’t real work, right? She shouldn’t be allowed to profit like this.

Three fish. Theres a girl named cici whose parents were beaten and taken from her, their only crime was a desire for safety, and they had their documents, and they told them that they had their documents and we are supposed to listen to officers, right? We’re supposed to trust them, but how come her screams did not matter. Cici watched her mother get slammed to the ground by a coward in a mask, by another man who will lose his face to gain some power.

So what happens when there are no more people without homes, when there are no immigrants left to tear apart, when the fish that are different from me do not live here anymore. Who is left to assert power over, for these patters will continue to repeat itself over and over and over

and then it will be me.

And then it will be you.

And then there will be nothing but the sea still rising and the ice still melting, and the ice, and the ice, and the ice.