So it's a funny-looking book that is--
well, I handwrote it because I was on the bus.
And the good people at Solid Objects
are doing an incredible thing of making a real book out of it,
which I almost didn't imagine, because it was such
a strange thing I was doing.
I imagined it more as a performance.
But I needed something to do, and I wrote.
So "Settle Her."
"8:02 AM.
Bus stop-- street.
Again forgot to look on--
to see where the bus-- coming.
But then again, this is how every morning.
Today, I'm the only one here.
It is also earlier than usual.
And is true, but I also didn't see you addressing things
all that much either.
I'd rather be thankful every morning, every morning.
But the-- one.
To get out the door, if I don't eat anything,
don't look at the computer all day-- was a--
brush teeth, change into clothes,
pack a few books, like this one, A Key
into the Language of America by Roger Williams
by Rosmarie Waldrop.
8:10 AM, board bus at 9th Street.
A woman standing near the entrance
is having trouble getting her wrinkled dollar bill
and encouraging someone to go ahead, which I do, but mostly
because I've always wanted to do that,
to swipe other people in, swipe the whole bus in.
And can still ask that they open-- will they open?
What demographics?
What year built?
How many times a week do you shop there, at the University
Heights Whole Foods?
This little organic piece of fruit, how far
and how long did you travel to get--
to be purchased and eaten by someone with the means
to become just another little piece of organic shit?
Doesn't work that way.
Card recently used.
But eventually, she gets it through.
She says thanks.
That was sweet of you.
And that-- I'd sit in the back of the bus, like I always do.
But now I'm trying to write some-- this is very bumpy.
I do find it liberating, though, to not be
worried about getting off at my stop and all--
AM was usual stop, Roger Williams National Park.
This stop has two names, which is confusing.
Apparently, yesterday, I elegantly
threw shade at Robert Grenier, but I think of him
now as I wonder if I am also--
bears repeating.
8:20 AM.
Today is a no-makeup day.
Kennedy Plaza making this too pretty, too aesthetically
pretty, except the bumpiness of the bus
is not-- and also aesthetic risk.
So I repeat, the aspect of class and aesthetics bears repeating.
The first section is about how to make small talk with people
will eventually harm.
Harm is such a light, tame word.
But it is still that morning, and I have a long ways to go.
So for now, harm starts like this.
What cheer nétop?
is the general salutation of all English toward them.
Nétop is for [INAUDIBLE].
1:38 PM.
Demographic on this bus is changing.
And I have not decided how long to stay,
have not counted how many times I have
ridden-- rode the bus today.
There's couple, both with their hoodies up,
and his arm around her shoulders.
This [INAUDIBLE] starting to die.
Really?
I haven't paid close attention to the bus route,
but I think it goes by Leon's house.
I could just hop on and off and join them.
But I won't.
[INAUDIBLE] a place to go is what Chinese vendors said too
when they want to rip you off, friend.
Worked for Tata, a huge Indian company.
And the HR person who helped process, when [INAUDIBLE] said,
I don't believe in talent, it is important to say these things
from positions.
Have yet to write about the Wampanoags who
had a march and protest rally for convocation this year.
They said, give us our land back.
Having spent the last eight years raising small children,
it seems pretty straightforward.
And so then outside of the rock--
are a few different groups, those in protest,
those starting their undergraduate program
of education.
Was the one who told me if you call you friend--
if they call you friend, you're being ripped off.
9:52 AM.
Back on the bus again.
I think bus drivers are wary of anything
at all that is not normal.
1:44 PM.
Public street.
There was a colorful something called Tides Family Services.
I suppose if I run out of ink, if I run out
of car, front, fence, stop, house, house, house,
some effect skulls too.
Fancy fried chicken, did not see if open or did not see fancy,
do not trust fancy, but maybe here.
When it all happened, it was terribly unclear what
was to make things better.
And it did not.
And it was clear that I--
[INAUDIBLE],, I am glad you are well.
In those early days, not long after we met,
he told me about this film by Koreeda called Wandafuru Raifu,
or Afterlife in English, about people
being in limbo getting interviewed about what
their happiest memory was.
I knew my answer then but never told him and probably have
never told this today to anybody.
I've always wondered why I couldn't tell anybody,
but I do think that something about it
would lose structural integrity if I told anyone, especially
if I told the wrong person.
So I better not risk it.
10:26 AM.
Car street approaching Montgomery Avenue.
I still think about bus drivers.
11:05 AM.
12:02 PM.
I don't.
I tried to be there when I could as I
could do anal, seemed like the kind of action was possible.
But if I did, I'd probably talk about it
like Ali Wong, who said, she had a lover
who didn't want to do it.
She said, are you kidding me?
If I went on Craigslist and posted tiny Asian chick seeks
anal, the website would crash, the internet would explode.
And I almost did that last night so I could keep
this book appropriately dirty.
I even made a new email address for that purpose.
You can try.
But I didn't post tiny Asian chick seeks anal.
Close your legs now.
That does not count as a move because I saw somebody else's
post that was looking for something to lie down next to,
to put his arms around, to sleep next to another human.
And I had to check my dumb privilege all over again,
a never-ending process.
I closed my legs.
But inside, still open like the never-ending process
of coming out queer, while also explaining another time,
I'm not on the market.
3:56 PM.
Kennedy Plaza.
I guess I will stay on this plan until it is too dark.
Of the angry people, I want to tell her the angry people
don't really-- to write or read, to be in the position of having
all these stories, but feeling a little bit dizzy, maybe
motion sickness."
[APPLAUSE]
[LAUGHS]
[APPLAUSE]
Thank you.
As you might have guessed, it's an improvisatory reading
process.
That's all.
Thanks.
Thanks for your listening.
OK.
Thanks, everybody, for coming.
One more round of applause for Sawako Nakayasu.
[APPLAUSE]