The refrigerator is there and it always will be,
until the building gets torn down.
I have the urge to move it.
That is likely impossible, but certainly I could topple it.
Someone stole Ronald’s sandwich and this has happened before,
so he was on a tear.
He was going to find The Thief.
He kept saying that.
And once he did, I wondered,
what exactly was he going to do?
Thrust his arm down the person’s throat
and pull out the remnants of his sandwich?
I don’t even know how it happened.
I was in Maxine’s office working on the just delivered
last chapter of the manuscript,
only to get disturbed by some writer that I had never seen before.
He talked about Maxine like he knew her well,
and I kept explaining she was out for the rest of the day.
Finally, he left.
When I settled back into my seat,
I realized the manuscript was gone.
I’m staring down to the streets below and looking at all the people.
They don’t look like ants.
They look like people, and any one of them
walking this way and that way to who the fuck knows where
could be the crazy person who stole the manuscript
and is about to collapse the charade of my career
before I even get a chance to start one up.
Are these windows really unbreakable?
I’m not even supposed to be here.
I haven’t eaten anything all day.
Fucking Ronald and his sandwich.
I walk over to the refrigerator and pull.
—
Jeffrey Yamaguchi creates projects with words, photos, and video as art explorations, as well as through his work in the publishing industry. @jeffyamaguchi (https://twitter.com/jeffyamaguchi) | jeffreyyamaguchi.com
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