KELIN LOE


from TOXIN TOCSIN! OR THE ORIGINS OF KELIN LOE!
 
 
 
 
When I was a baby who could stand up in her crib, I took a mega morning shit. I remember realizing I knew how to pull the tabs to release the diaper.

THE DAWN OF AGENCY IS THROWING YOUR SHIT ACROSS THE ROOM.

One poop kit gave me only a pair of gloves.

If shit was something I could bank on catching with my hand, I would not be sending my shit to the lab.

 
 
 
 
If I can fall out, so too must a shit have the capacity to fall out.

If I can fall under, so too must a shit.

If I can fall down, we know a shit can fall down.

When I can’t shit, and I try real hard and give up, so too will a shit climb up.

I have never seen a shit fall over.

 
 
 
 

I said, I have never seen a SHIT FALL.

I have only heard SHIT FALL.

DO NOT GO CHASING.

STICK TO THE RIVERS AND THE LAKES.

 
 
 
 

I have been biblical with a lake.

I spent my twenty-second birthday on boats.

Emily steered the pontoon into the lagoon and cut the engine.

She and Miriam and I blasted Lil’Wayne, danced and dove in.

The psychiatrist asks me if I have suicidal thoughts.

I ask if he can be more specific.

 
 
 
 

Later we went out in the speedboat.

YOU ARE INTREPID IN A SAILBOAT AND INVINCIBLE IN A SPEEDBOAT.

If you are hiding from a murderer, a murderer is hiding in a speedboat.

In order to get specific, the psychiatrist asks me if I know film.

 
 
 
 

My dad taught me to sail.

The first time I failed to water ski was the first time my dad drove a speedboat.

I was twelve, floating inside a men’s life jacket, trying to keep the men’s water skis pointed high.

I pretended I was Tiger Lily tied to an anchor fighting instead of sitting.

 
 
 
 

I say I don’t, but that I know television. The psychiatrist looks blank.

I say, THIS IS THE GOLDEN AGE OF TELEVISION.

He asked if I read a lot of fiction. And had I heard of Camus. He is a French author.

I shook my head.

He explained, I’ll just write down that you’re a writer. You know, all writers from time to time CONSIDER YOU KNOW killing themselves out of…

 
 
 
 

Being on a boat tour has never been worth it.

We got Emily up easy. We got Miriam up on skis after four tries.

She had just returned from ten days of silent meditation. Perhaps this helped.

 
 
 
 

I WANT YOU TO KNOW THAT I HAVE THE UPPER BODY STRENGTH OF AN ANIMAL THAT ONLY USES ARMS TO CATCH GROUND ON THE WAY DOWN.

And I can tell you it is easy to be weak and confident, tight and flatulent.

After my fifth try, I only remember something telling my body to let go immediately.

I fell back. I fell into the lake.

 
 
 
 

On my eighth try, I TURNED MY MUSCLES INTO METAL.

I dragged behind the boat like a crate.

IT IS DIFFICULT TO WATER SKI IN THE FETAL POSITION.

I pushed my feet to try to stand.

The skis bowed, and the speedboat wake rose like comet shot through my legs.

 
 
 
 

My swimsuit did not fall out when I went down.

I had to reach into my cervix to pull it out.

Miriam called me a bad ass.

When my husband and I forgot cash at the courthouse, Miriam paid the judge.

 
 
 
 

In the bathroom, wiping up the rosy blood, I considered what it meant to lose my virginity to Poseidon.

At least White Fish sounds like a noble name for a lake.

Kate, Elise, my husband and I went on a whale watching trip.

Kids and babies and parents and this happy French family and the four of us
settled in on the second level of the boat.

STRONG SWIMMERS KNOW OTHER STRONG SWIMMERS BY THE WAY THEY STAND.

I thought, you people look like idiots. If your toddler falls out, I’m the one who has to dive in.

There were over 150 humans on the boat.

 
 
 
 

Golden sore at the Chipotle, Emily explained that White Fish is a chain of lakes.

My lake was named BIG TROUT LAKE.

It was the choppiest day of the summer.

I tied my purse to the railing and rode the boat like bull.

WHO ISN’T SEXY IN THE OCEAN AIR?

 
 
 
 

Some grumpy kids lay down on the benches.

I took pictures of my friends.

I smiled at my husband.

A kid vomited dark Mountain Dew over and over into the trashcan behind my husband.

His little hands gripped the bars white. My husband said he’d been at it a while.

I turned my face to the wind and saw a whale.

 
 
 
 

The kids went first. Crying and lying down and vomiting out everything everywhere.

Kate went downstairs to take a break.

The parents went next. Then the elderly.

The boat people passed out clear baggies.

I couldn’t bear to see my husband get sick, so I went to the bow.

From my perch, the scents of barf popped like blowholes.

 
 
 
 

I HAVE NOT VOMITED SINCE I WAS EIGHT.

It was in the middle of the night. I went to find a book to bring to the bathroom.

I sprayed the hutch over my desk to the other side of my bedroom with peach cream.

My parents took turns scooping it out of the carpet with a spoon.

My therapy rabbit said that wasn’t normal.

I said I have not vomited since.

 
 
 
 

Elise joined me at the bow. Said none of us had fallen. I asked after my husband.

She said he was being very noble.

The teenagers went last, leaning over the sides of the boat.

A man was making a video that we could buy at the end of our trip.

 
 
 
 

Three people with expensive cameras were unaffected. They tripped over me a lot.

I WILL NOT GIVE UP MY SPOT.

 
 
 
 

I rode the chop like the fuck of every mariner.

Kate said the first level was a barracks, bodies lining benches, vomit sloshing across the deck, families breaking apart.

An elderly couple sitting at a table, hands locked, heads in bags.

I was covered in ocean. Just ocean.
 
 
 
 



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