“Jerry wants to argue about the existentialists again”

Jerry wants to argue about the existentialists again

but I am purposefully disinterested, alarmingly so.

I want instead to play the Pointing Game.

Dandelions, lemonade, applause—I add the last few weeks to the list

I started just a few weeks ago. Jerry suggests I add the word “meaning”

to the list. The word “contingency.” I tell him I can

write them down, and I do write them down, but the letters

look ashamed to be there. In the shower, my breasts

have their own terse argument. Go lower, go lower, says Gravity.

In the shower, my breasts were so pale they looked spooked.

I slip into a silk robe, I am thinking of my metabolism

when Jerry says our friends lack authenticity, our friends hide

in their own density. His mind, mine, Venn diagrams.

Wasps, dandelions, dragonflies. Meteors and candles. The truth:

the truth mishandles me. Meaning meaning is on my list,

absence is not, essence is not. Meaning:

the dandelions are gone, we never did plant them.