On New Year's Eve

in Astoria

On New Year’s Eve in Astoria, Claudia, Milo, and I met a gang of sea lions in the little cove between the riverwalk trestle and the parking lot at the end of 9th Street. They were making a racket and delighting tourists, us included. One of them climbed up the bank and fell asleep next to a car charger.

That night I went to a party on a farm with Midori. In the kitchen, women were cleaning and chopping usnea to make a tincture. In the living room, I hung out with a cat named Hobbes and a kid who was eight or nine. There was a pot of melted beeswax on a hot plate and the two of us sat on the floor and made lumpy candles.

Later, on my porch looking out over the river, we rang in the New Year. I lit my lumpy candle. From it, we all lit sparklers. At midnight the cargo ships sounded their horns like they do every year. Someone set off two illegal fireworks. We all screamed HAPPY NEW YEAR into the ship horn cacophony and, just like last year, the guy who lives in the RV across the street yelled back, “Happy New Year! I hope it’s a better one!”