On San Vicente Avenue I stood
looking at the place that was never my office
though it shoulda been,
the place where my first internship woulda been,
the flirting, the drinks, the coffee breaks
at Alfred’s that coulda been,
Trapped in a digital zoom box,
for 11 weeks.
Friendships made over memes,
messages, and social distanced beach meetings,
brief social distance parties that
triggered panic attacks after,
guilt for being young, for wanting to live my life
like nothing was happening.
The way my sister said,
“the only reason to do an unpaid internship is for
the friends you make,” but did I make any friends?
I think so. I hope so. A little bit. Not really, just Claire.
It’s shit for everyone.
Stop the shoulda, coulda, woulda
does no good to imagine things
that never could be.
it is what it is, this is the new normal.
Silverlining: at least I’m caught up on Netflix.
Ah! This life lived on screens is no life at all.
No, I shouldn’t say that. I’m learning so much on Instagram.
This is the way it is. This is the way it is,
this is the way, is it?