42 is always the answer


I CELEBRATE myself, and sing myself,
And what I assume you shall assume,
For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.

                                                            -Walt Whitman, Song of Myself


In this universe I make what death means

by my right hand, privacy becomes a stick figure

in the topleft corner, wealth is a series of overlapping dollar signs.

I’m happy about this day of days.

I am born and was always 42

trees growing over each ridge. The answer

to life, the universe, and everything.


I sing of textured grass and flex my wireframes beneath bitmaps.

I’m getting high on this transparent sky.

The wind whips through my speakers and ripples with scanlines.

I wait for the rain and it comes to put out barbecues and forest fires. 

I feel happy about being alive.

I can’t think of nothing greater than this.

I watch myself rotate.

I pull to the top and look down from above the clouds.

I pull into the floating base of small rocks and let it save.

I keep these trees filled with flashing white dots crimson,

like blood vessels. I’m basically this new day.

I’ve taken to stretching myself within this window.

I’m at once the monitor and tree bark.

I’m a total babe.          

I’m an 81 megabyte spinning mountain and I love myself. 


I feel at one with the universe inside this overcast day

My rotations keep constant.

The leaving of leaves, the paper cones, the white dust.

There are millions of suns. 

Can you see them rising?

Have you stopped to watch the wind whip

paper bags or blow dirt into unsuspecting eyes?

Have you thought once of a thousand acres? The earth? 

Have you left?


I’ve collected the remnants of leftovers:

Signposts dig into my spine

Boards of wood stretch across my abdomen.

Lonesome tooth, broken egg. 

A sailboat and rotary telephone.

Movie reel.

Bowling pins

Six sided die.


What is the meaning of this? I wonder about

this misty dawn light. I can’t get enough of this warm summer.

The smoke becomes crimson again.

I want to find something outside the universe.

Scrolling further,


I hear windchimes stuffed into square waves. 

I spell man and hear the beginning of beard hairs, 

nights in front of television sets, triangle lullabies. 


I must endure this autumn afternoon.

I am floating alone.

I zoom out and see myself among the stars.

I feel the ripple from outside myself.

I’d love to tell someone about this.


I fear I’m talking to myself.

I can’t feel anymore movement.

No fire ant colonies, no mountain lions.

Will I find another like me? Floating rock, lonely mountain.


Still waiting.

I’m reminded of my childhood in this night of nights,

spinning clouds around the summit.

Just one mountain in a sea of mountains unseen. 

I bequeath myself to the dirt to grow from the grass I love.

What is sadness?

Now it seems.

The beautiful uncut hair of graves.

I have heard the talk of the beginning and the end,

But I do not talk of the beginning or the end.

Look for me under your fingers 

in your screens, inside your binary code.

I stop somewhere waiting to boot back up.

Failing to fetch me at first keep encouraged,

Missing me one place search another,

Is this some kind of game?

a great communion inside this black night?

I feel I have nothing to fear in this day of days,

Night of nights, for I am mountain and I just felt god

in this blooming morning.


You're the One. (Matthew Espinosa)

“UGHH!!”I groan, throwing my head back in frustration. “What?" Matt laughs. "I HATE MATH!!" I scream, turning to my stomach and screaming into my pillow. Me and my best friend, Matthew, were sitting around in my room as we did our homework that was due Monday. It is a Friday, but we like to have the whole weekend, homework free. "Do you want me to help you?” He asks, scooting closer to me, and taking a loo at my homework. “This is so easy, Abby!" He chuckled, taking my binder from my lap and reading over the problem. "Can’t you just do it for me?" I joke, watching as he grabs a while piece of paper from my binder, and starts working on the problem in front of him. He sticks out his tongue, in concentration. He asks me what the quotient of certain numbers is, but he answers himself, a habit of his. I study him carefully, like I always do, considering I have like the biggest crush on him. I always have, actually. We’ve been best friends since we were in diapers, to be honest with you all. I haven’t had another best friend, it’s always been Matt. "The answer is 42." He whispers to himself, but he doesn’t say it out loud, until he’s done double checking his work. "The answer is 42!" He tells me, handing me the once white, sheet of paper, now written on in messy handwriting. I stare at him completely lost. "Can you explain why the answer is 42?" I ask, not understanding his unreadable handwriting. He tells me all the different way to solve the problem, but I get lost every single time, because he’s just so absolutely beautiful. 

There’s a knock on  my door, as soon as Matt’s done explaining the 5th question to me. He worked on 4 problems for me, but I would get lost every single time. Until we worked on the 5th one together, I understood everything he was trying to get me to learn. "Come in." I said, trying to work on the 6th problem on my own. My mom walked into my room, and smiled at the sight of me and Matt working on out homework together. She knows I like Matt because I tell my mom everything. She’s like my other best friend. I mean, Matt’s my best friend, but considering I have a crush on him, I can’t talk to him about that. I needed to talk to someone about my huge crush on Matt, and my mom was there. She’s absolutely supprotive about everything I do. I love her so much. She’s taken so much care of me. She’s the woman that gave birth to me, and she has always been there for me, all these 17 years that I have been alive. "Dinner’s ready!" She announces. "YEEEESSS!" Matthew stands up from my bed and dances. My mom smiled and winks in my direction. "Let’s get going, then!" Matt says, picking me up from my comfortable bed, and carrying me bridal style, to the kitchen. He sets me down on my spot on the kitchen table. My mom takes her seat next to me & Matt takes the spot across from me. I know what might be going through your mind right now. "Where’s your dad?” or “Do you have any siblings?” The answer to the first question is; I don’t know. I don’t really care. My mom told me not to worry about him, and I have decided that she’s right! I shouldn’t be worrying about someone that doesn’t want me in their lives. The answer to the second question; I don’t have any siblings. It’s just me and my mom. Always has been, always will be. I’ve been trying to get her to meet someone that will love her. I don’t want her to stay single for ever. But she just keeps telling me that she’s happy as she is, right now, and that I shouldn’t worry about her love life. So I’m staying out of her love life, but she’s not staying out of mine. Fair? I think not! “Yumm! Your cooking is absolutely fascinating, Ms.Reed!”  Matt moans. He loves to compliment my moms cooking, and she doesn’t mind either. She loves it when he compliments her cooking, because it just makes her feel proud of her amazing dishes. “I’m glad you’re enjoying my meal!" She replied with a smile. Matt gives her a thumbs up, and continues to eat her amazing spaghetti. "Are you sleeping over, Matt?" My mom asks, drinking from her cup. "Yes, ma'am! I have to help your daughter with her math!! She’s not the brightest!” He jokes, sending me a playful wink. I roll my eyes, and continue eating my spaghetti. 

We finished eating, and Matt and I rushed to my room, so we could finish our homework. I worked on my math, and after about 2 more hours of struggling, and trying to figure things out, because I didn’t want to bother Matt because he seemed to be struggling with his English home work, I finished with my homework. “FINALLY! I’M DONE!" I say, throwing my binder to the floor, and laying on my bed. "Speak for yourself, I still need another page to finish with my essay!" Matt whined, staring intensely at his laptop screen. "You can finish that tomorrow! I think we deserve some sleep!!" I say, patting the spot next to me on my bed. "You have a point!" He chuckles, closing his laptop, and standing up from my desk. "I’m going to change." I announce, walking into my bathroom. I change into some comfortable clothes, and as soon as I walk out, I find Matthew passed out on my bed. My blanket pulled all the way up to his neck. I guess he was really tired. I chuckle a little, and I turn off the light. I lay on the spot next to his, and soon sleep takes over me.