MY LIFE IS PERFECT BY M. KITCHELL
I wake up and find two nude men next to me in bed. Actually one of them is sucking my dick.
The windows are open and I can hear the sound of waves outside. An empty bottle of J&B sits
on the end table, cigarettes in the ash tray. I feel like I should be complaining but then I realize
my life is perfect. I wake the other man up and tell him to get busy too. His name is Steve. The
man who is already sucking my dick is named Richard, or Thomas, or it doesn’t even fucking
matter. I shut my eyes again and understand that love is like nothing compared to where I am
The sun sets at 9 PM and I realize I’ve been drinking since breakfast. My tan is so even that I
can’t even tell when winter ended. I think I was in the pool at some point but I fucked any
excess energy I had away. I’m naked of course, why wouldn’t I be. I order another whiskey
neat and thank god that the expression “whiskey dick” is an entirely foreign concept. The stereo
plays west-coast rap by seventeen year-olds and I know that I never have to die.
There’s a naked woman on the floor and for a minute I’m confused because I know it wasn’t me
that had sex with her. The lights in this room are completely beautiful and it’s okay that I don’t
understand them. The couch I’m sitting on was designed in the 1960s by a famous Italian
designer that’s no longer relevant to the world at large, but that’s why I’m still inside. My robe is
draped open and I almost can’t deal with how good I feel.
The car is driving so fast that if I weren’t on speed I might be convinced that we were flying. I
tried to catch a screening of Fellini’s Satyricon with an actor who looks like Tony Perkins in Play
It As It Lays but whoever answered his phone told me he wasn’t available. I delete his number
from my contacts and have sex with a hustler whose thighs are bigger than my head. When I
realize I’m still driving I look to my right and see a ten car pileup, but it’s okay because I know I
will live forever.
Because I am so tan I will never burn from the sun. I’m loose from every drink I’ve ever had and
my hands never stop holding cigarettes. We were hanging out with Ke$ha but when she
passed out we laughed and drew on her face in permanent marker. I think it’s morning. I can’t
remember the last time I had my Gareth Pugh boots on. Don’t believe in last season because
it’s eternally the present. A young girl waves to me and grins bigger than the champagne
fountain at last night’s party. I close the leather-bound notebook I’m writing in and eye her
friend who clearly wants to fuck me. I know it will happen but I’m in no hurry, there’s no such
thing as time.
© 2011, Metazen.