we had a friend eugene. he loved the ramones and harry nilsson. he looked a lot like nilsson. we used to jump on the couch at his parents house singing jump into the fire. and sheena is a punk rocker. he went to film school while we went to theater school and writing school we were all in the same school we had not done anything much but we seemed to be on a creative path. later he sold juice. later my brother sold flowers. later i drifted with my dog and wound up captured in a law firm mail room. there may be no point to this, just, yes there is, but it's not clear how, what we become, and what were we secretly inside unknown even to us. eugene moved to lost wages nevada and still selling juice to the gambling industry became a maga, i wondered what they call them, magats? i read maga means easily fooled idiot in nigerian pidgin. and eugene means well born, hence eugenics. so this is the tragic trajectory of well-born eugene and my brother and me and only my brother and me are still talking. my brother's arranging flowers and i'm swimming with dogs. it go figures, eugenics, hee he.