Going Nowhere

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︎︎︎ Claire Daylo

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︎ May 26, 2025

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My mind’s all strung out like the end of the road now, like Coney Island at the end of the F but we stopped one before it, Brighton Beach, where he spoke in Russian to the cashier and she just nodded and said Thank You, we were buying spongey raspberry cakes and it was 90 degrees and we ate them on acid, they tasted like paper floors, it was awful, it meant nothing and I took him behind the boardwalk and we stood before the teddy bears, the wilted flowers, like one of those memorials on the side of the road only no one died, I wanted to kiss him there, maybe, I didn’t know what I wanted to do, felt guilt with every joint I moved but we smoked one so it would prod me less, sidewalks grew wavy, I felt it anyway, he asked me why we were here, I couldn’t answer.