I moved him back to the backyard. Back amongst his friends.

“I’m sorry, man,” he said as I made my way back through the house. “I didn’t have a mom—and these are my babies!”

I told Ryden I might be dipping soon.

“Well holler when you back,” he said.

We were out front his front steps. It was night.

We dapped each other up.

He backed away, saluting.

I went to close the box’s side sliding door.

“Wait—your plant!” I called out.

He turned and went “No, that’s all you,” doing a prayer gesture and bowing.

•

Three weeks later, in California, autonomous bae called me from Philly and said Did you hear? Did I hear what? I said. About Ryden. Did you hear about Ryden. What about Ryden, I said. She told me he had a brain aneurism in his sleep and was in a coma. It’s a year later now, writing this, and he’s still in a coma. His parents have been out in Philly for a year. I don’t live in Philly anymore. They’re gonna take him back to California once his insurance runs out. I need to go visit him, before he goes. I’ll let you guys know how he’s doing once I know.

5

BALLBOY

December 2018

I couldn’t believe shit was getting fucked again.

That I had to go through this all over.

Back to Fullerton in the ma’s Prius, to see Dr. Botox.

I mean he was a good dude, like he was doing his best.

But homie had no clue what to do.

Took one look at me and probably thought Jeez, not this dude again, this dude is fucked.

And promptly got me back on the roids.

My uncle J, big cuz E’s pops, heard about how fucked I was and was adamant I see this Tibetan doctor who’d cured his friend’s breast cancer.

Uncle J a U.S. naval chaplain stationed in Okinawa.

Posted like much of the U.S. military these days, on bases secured by our WWII involvement. To keep tabs on Kim Jong.

Like Bro you make one fkng move we blowing this bitch.

Sending in the boys.

Sitting waiting wishing a ninja would.

But Uncle J was the man; he offered to pay for my visit.

I didn’t ask how much it was.

In order to see the Tibetan doctor Dr. L, I had to not eat sugar or drink caffeine for 48 hours before.

I straight up laughed, thinking it was a joke, when my mama told me this.

I felt so naked, like my brain wasn’t able to defend itself with quips and manic rambling.

Honestly didn’t know how to function not constantly showing how funny/clever I could be.

At the end of the 48, I had to piss in a jar and present him with it.