July 3, 2026

how to survive the heatpocalypse

-drink plenty of water
like, you know you already drink more water than the average person, but now is the time to truly indulge — refill your water bottle before it’s completely empty, make sure you are never out, limit your caffeine intake (even though you’ve seen more and more headlines indicating that coffee does not dehydrate you, better to play it safe when you’re sweating out all of the liquids you’re ingesting), and speaking of sweating, make sure you get those salts and electrolytes! at least one pack of liquid iv per day, in cold cold water, sometime between noon and 8pm, so you can indulge in the nice, cooling feeling of fridge water, as well as the important extra things your body needs that you can’t just get from over a hundred fluid ounces of plain water alone. (in a pinch, and if you’re away from home, buying a gatorade or the like will also help). and though they are tempting, it’s probably best to avoid the sugary sodas left over from the end-of-semester pizza party. you can indulge when it’s not one hundred degrees outside.

-check each room’s a/c and sleep in the strongest one
really analyze — the window units are old and probably need either filter-changes or to be thrown away (but you hate throwing away things until they are fully broken down, and you cannot, for the life of you, find window a/c units that fit your 96-year-old house’s tiny windows, so you’ll probably use them until they fully die, but they also can’t really take this heat bubble, so just see how they’re doing), the bedroom one seems to be struggling more, so perhaps you don’t get to sleep in your bed tonight, but the downstairs one is doing alright in conjunction with the ceiling fan, but it’s also trying to cool the whole downstairs, which is rough on these units which are you-don’t-actually-know-how-old, plus your spouse suspects it is couch-sleeping that makes their shoulder hurt the worst, so the newest, non-window a/c in the guest room it is, which cools the room down almost immediately, and keeps the heat down, though has the downfall of being sucked in by whomever is closest, so you make sure your spouse sleeps next to it, because they cannot sleep overheated, and you know you’ll sleep, just restlessly, and that’s not much different from most nights, to be honest.

-train your body to sleep over the covers
so you have the things you need, as a former/current insomniac, to actually fall asleep (you haven’t yet trained your body to stay asleep, but hey, fixing half the problem is a huge gain!), but this is, unfortunately, not the time to use the bundling of blankets as your immediate-fall-asleep-spell. you have your other things: on your stomach, hands tucked just under your pillow, at least one animal next to or on you, your spouse next to you (though probably no cuddling, seeing as how hot it is, even with the a/c blowing), this is the time to use your training of your body in tricksy ways — you know you can’t fall asleep unless all of your body is coated in clothes, use your long sleeved shirt, long leggings, knee-high socks, and the hot air around you to trick your body into believing it’s under five blankets. let that lull you into a kind-of-comfort in order to kick-start sleep.

-trust the animals to know what they need
yes, you will need to provide more water throughout the day to them, or open the door to let them into/out of the rooms with closed-door a/c units blowing, but if you start trying to chase them down to give them water, or worry overnight that they are overheated and should really be elsewhere than where they are because they are all fur and no sweat glands, you will anxiety yourself into your high-school self. they are animals. they are used to having fur coats. neither of them enjoys the cold of the winter, so they’re probably doing alright. they will scratch at the door when they want in or out. they will pant to cool down. they will drink the water when they are thirsty. keep an eye on them, surely, but if you worry too hard about them, there will be no rest for anyone, and that’s probably the most useful thing to survive for everyone in this house — rest

-plan for that rest
though you are very good about surviving in the heat of the city, the hot train cars, clacking that fan to breeze away your sweat, bringing your own shade with you in the form of an umbrella everywhere, if you have the luxury of working from home or cancelling plans, do it. stay in the shade and the coolness of the parts of the house that stay cool. it is lucky that it’s a holiday weekend, so you can even indulge in some kip-time that includes chilling on the couch together, playing with the puppy, writing, stretching, nothing too strenuous, and definitely nothing taking you into the city with the heat increasing and increasing with every glass-sided building and concrete-finished ground. your area is tree-filled and therefore cooler than the average nyc neighborhood. use it. utilize it. stay here. stay as long as you can, as long as the electricity works.

-and speaking of electricity — don’t over-use it
delay laundry day, so you’re not trying to run a dryer on top of multiple a/c units. turn the fans on and the lights off. let the a/c units not run too strong during the day (it’s the nighttime when you actually need them anyway). don’t run big electronics. don’t be the cause of a brown-out. don’t get mad when the electricity doesn’t run as hard as other days because the electricity-provider is trying to prevent a brown-out. use showers as cooling, hand-fans, ice-packs, keep the fridge closed, eat leftovers cold. there are always ways that you can conserve the electricity and still get cool. do them now.

-know that it will be over in just a few days
while the trend, due to climate change, is increasing in amount and severity these heat bubbles and polar vortexes and once-in-a-lifetime storms (which we’ve seen at least two dozen of in our three decades of living so far), the nice thing about weather is that it changes and moves and the wind takes things away and we will get a respite in a few days. you never thought that seeing a high of “just” 90 would fill you with relief, but after multiple days of over 100 being estimated, the “feels-like” temperature crawling higher and higher, revel in the respite when it comes. and maybe, just maybe, run out into the thunderstorm when it brings even cooler fronts with it. forget about avoiding wetting your rainbow hair and just enjoy the natural coolness of the rain.

-and then potentially do this all over again…

June 29, 2026

i’m feeling
a
type
of
way
and i don’t necessarily know
what type of way that is
but at least i know why

change
and staying the same

change is
show ending
kip starting a brand new job
[that, granted, is not in france
but still, a big change]
change is
going back to things
circus
friendships
that may have paused
while i was so damn busy
change is
fixing up the house into something i
might want to make [and perhaps film]
physical projects inside
[and make room to have it so that
kip feels at home in our home
as well/still]

and staying the same is
having a mess
as usual
and being too open for my own damn good
and not knowing how to interact in social
[and non-social] situations…
i wish there was an instruction manual for living
[but, let’s be honest, would i follow it?
or would i deem it too ‘societally normative’ and
literally and/or figuratively throw it out the window
or
or
would i want a societal manual just to decide
what is for me and what is not?
and that begs the question
even if i read
and intended
to follow, would i actually be able to
or would i still fall back into
what i know/feel best
which is how i act
and i just am who i am
and that’s all that i can be
and i needn’t be worrying myself so
about all of this?]

and the conclusion of this poem is that
change happens
and sameness happens
and there are no instructions for life because
we are all just who we are
and that is all we [probably] ever will be

and that is ok.

January 19, 2026

is there going to be a time
sometime
soon
where we look at all this newfangled technology
as so tragically
backwoods
backwards
and slow

it’s gotta be
it’s gonna happen
that’s just the way of the world

but i want to know if there was ever a time
where we looked upon the new thing
sometime
later
and felt it wasn’t as great a thing
as it was originally made out to be

there have always been
moral panics about
well, anything and everything really

when people read books too much
they weren’t paying attention
to life
and living

when people spent too much time on the phone
the connection was cheapened

music
is against
godliness

etc

etc

etc

but i feel so many people my age
are looking at the internet
not as bringing something that haunts us as a hysteria
but bringing with it actual
worse
life
living

[and it is those of us who were there in the digital trenches,
who thought the internet was the dawn of a
great new age,
who extolled the powers of social media
for keeping us in contact with people
we very likely would have lost touch with,

we are the ones having doubts
second guessing our own excitement.]

[i feel like the only comparable moment would be
a failed city/state
with a governmental system
that didn’t do
what it said it would]

[but then, wouldn’t those who wanted it
dig their heels in
harder
as the numbers and examples and proof
overwhelmed the senses;
haven’t people always clung harder to the “facts”
that are provably
wrong
with
every
moment
of
proof?]

so what age are we in?

or am i in the minority
as i sit here, annoyed with and worried about
ai
and the state of the internet in general?

but believe me when i say
i do not
want to go back to a “simpler time”

moving forward is good

often technology is great

it is the shareholders and capitalism and consumerism that’s making these things
so terrible
upon release
and as they
continue to
exist

[the vulture class just gives a bad name
to vultures]

January 17, 2026

distract yourself with crimson glaze
with pink chiffon
with aesthetics and
art

[is art a distraction?
or is it a human need?]

[or is distraction itself
sometimes
a need?]

[i don’t know
i don’t know
i try to speak for
the entirety of the human race
but so few of them make any sense
to my own senses
that i’m simply trying to
live life
i’m simply trying to
continue to
want to live life
keep life
going
i’m simply trying to
try
sometimes
not even all the time
just
sometimes
sometimes sometimes
sometimes be my own human self
sometimes try to speak for
those in the human race that today’s humanity
seems to leave behind
sometimes try to
connect with others
in a way that
raises both parties up
from one level of existence
to another
greater
kinder
more enlightened
not to be better than others
but to carry everyone
with us — if i share enlightenment with three people
and each of them share with
three more
how long until we have all of humanity
together
and looking out for
each other?]

this rambling poem
is to say
as much as i feel like i
will never understand the
rest of the human race, i keep making art
for them for them for them
for the connection to get to know them
and have them know me

i can’t help it

that’s part of living as/with
humanity

June 6, 2024

here we go
into the flow
of a habit
we’re tracking
and i’m tricking myself
[or at least it feels like it]
into feeling like i can actually
write more poetry
when i don’t have a creative bone in my body
[again, all perceptions
from the realm of the brain]
and i can’t even think of something i’d like to address
because everything feels overwhelming
to the point where i’m just beating myself up about
not doing anything
as i can feel the trauma of the whole situation
bearing down
and bearing through
what little defenses i had up
i had going
and i’m too hungry to think of good rhymes
and i’m too tired to conenct any of the lines
from here to there
from Palestine to liberation
but i know it’s here
somewhere
i know it’s there
and through it all we can liberate
the Congo and Sudan and Haiti
and everywhere else people look like me — in that i have two eyes
and a nose
and a mouth that smiles
and a heart that feels
and ears that love to hear stories
and the human condition is so much more
and so much less
than we make it out to be

the human condition is being human
here
on this planet

please
let’s not
lose it.

August 31, 2021

summers
have always been
Magical
for me

as a child
wandering around lands i probably shouldn’t have been wandering around
sneaking past “no trespassing” signs
set against hunters’ blinds
(but no one was ever there when i was there;
November is the time for guns,
June, July, August the time for fairies in human form),
skirting around soy bean farms
before ‘soy’ was even a word in my vocabulary
(‘fuzzy beans,’ i used to call them),
crossing tiny creeks
jumping or wading
watching waterbugs skitter past
breathing in the hot air
staying mostly under trees
to avoid the [inevitable] tomato red sunburn
sometimes with friends
but most of the time with myself
speaking stories out loud
creating both sides of dialogue on the tip of my own one tongue
the endless tales of magic
and friendship
and exploration
my companions
for whole summers.

as an adult, most summers have come and gone
but there have been
two
that have held even more magic:

at twenty-two
i was dumped
one month shy of a five-year anniversary
and my personality had become contingent
on hers
and the April breakup,
the steady flow of May tears
somehow passed into a
June/July/August
of friendship and finding myself
truly feeling my emotions for the first time since i was
seventeen
(perhaps even farther back, because of, you know, the trauma;
perhaps feeling emotions fully for the first time since i was
eleven),
and i felt the good and the
bad
the joy and the
sorrow
the bitterness and the
love.
and i found that friendship didn’t need to stay braced on the one side of
platonic
and i found that i could be myself, silly, joyful, tearful, and loud
and sociable
in a way i’d never felt before
(always having been on the outside,
the observer,
the child alone in the field talking to themselves making up worlds and adventures…)
there was a magic in that summer
i don’t think i could accurately name,
a friendship, a late adolescence, a very slight hedonism, but a care for self and others,
that was my first adult magic summer
(The Summer Of No Egrets)

at twenty-seven
(plus 3)
my spouse and i moved to the city that never sleeps,
and after celebrating my twenty-seventh birthday for the fifth time
we looked forward to getting settled over the winter
and truly getting to know the city in the spring.
and then a global pandemic happened.
time stood damn near still
most people home, waiting
two weeks turned into four, which turned into another month, then another
until we were ‘working from home’ ‘indefinitely.’
and as an actor
one who works gig by gig,
long, spacious times between each production
(zoom replacing stages,
closets full of sweaters replacing in-person sound booths),
i had plenty of time to watch the tides from our living room,
cheer at 7 for those putting their lives on the line to keep the city as healthy as possible,
and one day, after an endless string of Black men (and women, and children, and trans women and trans men and nonbinary folks…) being
killed
murdered
by the hands of those who white america thinks are here for
“protection,”
the nation broke,
the city
erupted.
i was aware as far as national news,
but a contingent marched past our building
and i felt foolish for not having been among them,
so i did my research,
and joined in marches,
across downtown Brooklyn,
where healthcare workers stood outside their workplaces
and cheered for us, on the front lines, trying to make the city
safer
than originally thought possible,
blocking traffic in Manhattan,
listening to folks of color
tell me tales,
speak words that
i knew logically,
but hadn’t thought of
emotionally.
and a full scale revolution erupted.
i watched as those in power were given
full riot gear
as we peacefully chanted to the sky
“i don’t see no riots here.”
taking knees,
holding space,
coming in white
staying in silence,
listening
and listening
and listening
and watching
and observing
and protecting
and seeing how a world could be better
the magic of that summer,
of a whole damn city coming together
to say that Black Lives do matter
and they matter
to us
every day
for an entire summer…
and while i wasn’t able to be out there every day,
i still felt the magic
that there was more than just me,
i was one amongst many;
the full power wasn’t in my face,
but mine as one in a sea of faces
so many you could no longer pick out just one
and everyone was invigorated
and everyone was excited
and everyone was yelling/chanting/singing in their hearts
and i was able to see
what community looks like.
the magic
of what community looks like.

i don’t have a good ending
for this poem.
but i think,
upon some months of reflection
after the initial fingertips to keyboard keys
musings of these magics
one idea stands out a little farther than the others:
it’s the people.

the magic of my childhood summers was based
[primarily]
in isolation,
the feeling of needing a break
from the ever loud and sociable days of school
forced by law to be there
day after day after day after day after day,
and that break was necessary.

but the magic of my adulthood summers
is based absolutely entirely
in community
in coming together
in observing and living
the ideal of what togetherness means

(and maybe my childhood summers weren’t about isolation at all,
but instead creating the community i needed,
that i hand’t found yet
in my mind…)

but please, as we get back to a reality
that is about to endure the difficult (for me) transition
From August to September,
from summer to fall,
remember that people are important
and the magic is in
togetherness,
and find your community in
whatever way and place suits you best,
and donate some money or time
to a Black-led organization
today.