Hybrid: “Bisquick’s Playlist, ‘Linger Ye Little Whimsigoths’” by C. Russell Price
Bisquick’s Playlist, “Linger Ye Little Whimsigoths”
Bisquick (faced with the Herculean task of creating a road trip playlist
for the speaker and Ghost Cowboy) begins it, like all his personalized playlists
with The Cranberries “Linger.” 28 versions. He pulls his head
inside the car during a really moving crooner rendition, flicks his cigarette
and says “Cowboy! You could totally do this!” And when the grungiest,
emoist, bang flip version starts, we lock eyes. His giant lashes fluttering
in the drive-by breeze. We both snort, like a horse and a queer with sinus issues
would snort. Bisquick says “Grrrrrl, you could so do this too if you didn’t always go
into things so ugly!” And Cowboy bops his seat and Bisquick apologizes
and blames his neurodivergence. We all three sing in intensive outpatient unison:
You Don’t Have To Say Sorry For Being Yourself.
On the outside, this hell-wagon looks like just a solo sad queer
in their Step-Mom Carol-Lee’s beat up 2003 Miada, but inside
there’s a party starting. Cowboy has sparked a spliff
and Bisquick is passing out roadskies. We’re ¾ through
the Just Linger playlist. Cowboy offers to drive and we laugh
knowing that he isn’t legally allowed to drive in the continental United States,
not because he’s a ghost but because his license got revoked for calling
in multiple bomb threats to a Triple Threat: a KFC/Taco Bell/Pizza Hut
fast food centipede where his ex-boyfriend worked. “Chad always smelled
like a glovebox and salt,” Cowboy said. We’re a Subway family now
because of Chad. Fuck Chad. Cowboy says “Watch this!” as he stands outside
the sunroof and pisses into the wind. “I’m skywriting your name!” he calls down to me.
Bisquick and I are so in love with being in too deep with this messed up cowpoke.
He gives a good shake and slides back down into the passenger seat.
Bisquick has started dozing in the backseat, hooves out both back windows.
Cowboy and I don’t want to change the playlist.
I go to turn up the volume, his ghost finger wraps around mine.
Notes:
For clarification, Bisquick is a blue, ghost horse.
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About C. Russell Price
C. RUSSELL PRICE is originally from Glade Spring, Virginia, but now lives in Chicago. They are a Lambda Fellow in Poetry, a Ragdale Fellow, a Windy City Times 30 Under 30 honoree, an essayist, and a poet. They are a two-time Top 50 Writers of Chicago honoree. They are the author of a chapbook, Tonight, We Fuck the Trailer Park Out of Each Other (Sibling Rivalry Press) and the full length collection oh, you thought this was a date?!: Apocalypse Poems (Northwestern University Press). Their current projects are Bisquick: Seance Poems and I Don’t Need a Mood Ring; I’ve Got a Face (a memoir). They are on the editorial and curatorial boards for the Ragdale Foundation, Story Studio Chicago, and The Anarchist Review of Books. They are a Poet in Residence with the Chicago Poetry Center and landscape in the Windy City.
