THINKING ABOUT AFGHANISTAN BY TESSA POPPE 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 28
I wanna go back to Afghanistan.
I think I lost something.
I stare out the window a lot.
I don’t even know what the hell is wrong with me.
Watch out for culture shock!
I need to hide from society.
Society as a whole needs to get punched in the face.
I’m worried about you.
I have been drinking more than I normally would here.
But it started because I can’t sleep, so it’s ok.
Don’t make me cry. Put that lower lip back in your mouth.
I miss you.
You’re especially nice. I’m high as fuck.
Do you? Do you get me?
I’m duct taping my fingers after this.
So I won’t spend another 40 bucks on a conversation,
or keep typing ridiculous shit.
OH. I do get you.
You’re gonna be fine.
It’s just a phase, remember that.
Ps my hair is falling out.
MY ULTRA BY ALEXANDER J MOTYL 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 28
I first met Ultra Violet in early 2007 at a reading I was giving of Who Killed Andrei Warhol at the Ukrainian Institute of America on Fifth Avenue and Seventy- ninth Street. The organizer of the reading lived in her building and invited her. She was dressed in a bright violet sweater and head wrap. I extended my hand; she placed her hands together and bowed. We exchanged a few uncertain words. I gave her a signed copy of Whiskey Priest; she gave me a signed copy of her memoir, Famous for Fifteen Minutes. We exchanged cards and phone numbers. She said she had a studio in Chelsea and that I should visit. I said I would. I never did.
I didn’t hear from Ultra for over a year. Then, in May 2008, in the course of a single day I received several telephone calls and emails from her. I called back. She invited me to lunch at her place. Why she didn’t say. I said yes, of course.