in new york, a big black woman flanked by
two men who looked miniature beside her
pointed her pocket at me and said,
"stick 'em up, white girl, and gimme that coat!"
it was a massive coat, down to my knees,
fur collar and muff, a jewish coat, jenna's coat.
she stared me down for a moment and then
broke out into cackles, walking past the liquor store.
i walked home, stepping around boys drinking
out of paper bags on our stoop, to find
jenna sitting on the barstools around our kitchen
table, wearing the same pale blue long johns
she had been wearing for weeks, sitting
on the same stool she had occupied for weeks.
i turned on our oven (electric) and stuck
my head inside, thawing the frozen parts of my hair
as rats skittered about our walls and ceiling.
jenna looked away from the autobiography she was reading
and intoned, "fail fast, erin. fail fast."
she picked up a pen and began to draw in the margins of her book,
tucking her long underwear into her socks.
- age 19, bed stuy, new york.
in jenna's words, they told us to go big or go home,
and we left that summer. fail fast
