Found myself unable to retrieve my laundry from the basement
Oscillated between the poles of self-beratement and forgiveness 
The words appear in any order and I read them: why I am my wasting life 
Viewed a lot of pictures posted on Humans of Late Capitalism

Viewed a trove of products
Added to my cart a single pink stain 
Considered the optimal time to cancel Prime 
Concluded the time wasn’t now 

Considered curtailing my presence 
Gathered evidence by examining my presence
Scrolled until I felt my body rise in temperature
Tried to get a racist fired but was unable 

Returned to reading The Idiot
Continued reading The Idiot, though my laundry was occupying public space
Texted where are you to anyone 
Wished I had a life where I read

But I am reading
Recalled the mannequin’s nipples, protruding up out the bra
Decided to masturbate but mandated a waiting period
Noting I had been reading about various cases of rape

Began masturbating but thought about what she’d said about the flowers 
That they were beautiful despite being dry
Was our love also dry? And was it also still beautiful?
Ceased masturbating to consider 

Applied to a job in Kurdistan
Considered whether I wanted the job or wanted to want it
Considered the difference between these; its shape, dimension, texture
Searched for images of reverse sandwiches throughout duration of this consideration

Read about Avicii's last days
Read about the Golden State Killer's identity
Considered the ethics of using ancestry data to identify criminals
Concluded I needed more time for opinion-formation

Listened to my most-listened-to songs of the past year compiled by an algorithm
Considered how others' outfits altered my opinion of them
Considered what I could supplement my regular masturbation routine with 
Rejected all options

Developed a desire for books to include images of each character
Immediately unwished this
Masturbated with the non-routine hand
Began to sweat and considered this a positive supplement to pleasure

Recalled the time I masturbated wildly in my first adult apartment 
Its new wood floors, and me on them, at last, free of my roommates 
I incorporated this picture as evidence of my desirability 
Back then, I still believed everything was adding up to something 

Placed a leather choker doubled on itself between my teeth
Writhed around my prized pile carpet until I started crying docile tears
Imagined myself as a cartoon and crying sharp white diamonds
Filed this image away to the database of my self-concept 

Considered my dead grandmother, to whom the carpet once belonged
Considered my child-self propped up on elbows upon this very carpet
Considered the story my grandma told of a Mohamed sent to steal this carpet from her
Felt a slick of sweat arise beneath each breast but left my heavy sweatshirt on

Considered the role of memory and agony in pleasure
Told myself that I deserved to be in hot discomfort
Asked myself why I was crying 
Well, I was missing someone. I was missing my self, too

Published July 18th, 2021

Tracy Fuad is the author of about:blank, which Claudia Rankine selected as the winner of the Donald Hall Prize. Her poems have appeared in POETRY, The New Republic, and Best New Poets, and her work has received support from the Barbara Deming Fund, Hedgebrook, and the Provincetown Fine Arts Work Center, where she is a 2021-22 Poetry Fellow.

Wei Tan is an artist based in Berlin, born in Malaysia. Tan earned a BA from King’s College London and an MA in Music Technology from New York University, Tisch School of the Arts. In 2015, Tan began abstract painting as part her exploration into visual sound art. She has since exhibited her paintings and sculptures extensively in New York, Los Angeles, London, Rome, Berlin, Penang and Shanghai. Tan’s recent exhibition Rooms and Interiors can be viewed online through Arte Globale, and more of her work can be found on Tan’s website, smart-collectors, and AucArt.