Thursday, July 29, 2010


we had a map of the piano
I think Lucas took it with him
to Seattle
he and John took a quarter each
Aaron took the smallest sliver
Kyle ate his portion
Machu's in her bones
Michael has pinned it to his heart
and I have it tattooed on my brain

and we all took acid
remember when we were young (er)
and everyone was single
and there was no asking about whereabouts
i met you guys in the Colfax hills
tiny car
tiny radio
and we swallowed the bread whole
and went dreaming in the dark

i had my back flat on the bridge
and the water was under me
you three went into the pocket
and laughed about prophecies

and i remember being really ok with being so small

and then in the backseat,
it finally hit me
that our dear friend Kyle was beautiful
and a genius
and i wanted nothing more than for him to be near
but he was off ranting about the government somewhere
so instead, we all held worship
while listening to his music

and ha remember
my lungs were green
i could feel them
that night
and the entire next day

gender lines didn't exist
the smile of his was the equivalent of hers
and my face hid in the books
at my mother's house
when i felt like it

viva lost hood

he was tall
he had a great frame
i remember what his shoulders looked like in the dark
some sort of tale
that lingered on
for too long
the cars went by
fast around the corner
in that house
in that house
you could hear almost every sound
the neighbors walking by
the dogs fighting
the rain dancing
across the tin roofs
children with sticks hitting the chain-link fence
people making love
above you
alongside you
inside you
i slept on the couch
without making a sound
always to music
(viva lost hood)
there were times when we would gather
in the living room
and just laugh and laugh
about someone's antics
or we would go out at night
our crew
our clan
and wear bands around our heads
arms in the air
and roam Sacramento
as if everything was brand new to us
(because it was)
and we would sometimes sit on the roof
and watch the sky
turn into code
mumble either confessions
or make out
or draw on the white tile
until the building fell apart
and we would hide it in the trees
(until they chopped it down)
i would lay on the carpet floor
and hum along to music that
i had just discovered
or remember that time
John got me to smoke out of a bong
for the (first) time
and we "discovered" Portishead
and afterwards
awkward commenced
(to which he then left)
and i was free to be high
and alone

i'm staring at frames of tall women
who walk into the coffee shop
unaware of the two men
who's eyes are haunting them
mine are too
but not for the same reason as they
i think of what she is thinking
of what she did the night before
of how many vowels are in her name
or street
or vehicle.

all of these people we will never meet
can inspire you to
befriend a stranger
or on the other hand
it can overwhelm you

i don't want to be overwhelmed
i want to be careless
and run to the hills
and sing

and have unexpected experiences
with people i've always known

Wednesday, July 28, 2010

pink floyd

this hotel is getting wierder as the nights go on.

it may seem that i'm always so unhappy when i write these blogs
but i'm just nostalgic
and wanting
some past
or a constant present.

it's all good.
i have the weekend to figure me out.

2+ 2

going through the motions
is not
a way to live.

it should really never even be an option.

there are two halves right now.
one half of me doesn't even remember what i did the night before.
the other half is anxious, always.

Tuesday, July 27, 2010

the supremes

i need
shut out everything
for a day
and not listen to
anyone speak
not worry about anything

Monday, July 26, 2010

blood. visions.

watched a movie with Jordyn last night about a man who kills the man his husband cheated on him with...
killed him with a snowglobe.
snowglobe to tha dome.

all i could think about was the amount of blood that came from his poor, gourgous head...
his black locks
stuck together
while lying on a stack of books.

Wednesday, July 21, 2010

my girl


i love you

Sunday, July 18, 2010

old skull

i read your words
and it makes me want to swallow them

you old skull.

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

lose your sex

He is Howard Roark

and I Dominique Francon.

She is Howard Roark

and I Dominique Francon.

I am Howard Roark

and he/she Dominique Francon.

( lose your sex)

Tuesday, July 13, 2010

the body breaks

listening to old Devendra Banhart
reminds me of
the times
15 year old Machu would come over
to my lopsided house
and we would sit and talk until
we grew tired
and i would put on Devendra
and we would fall asleep
on my tiny twin bed
our arms slightly touching
(arms upon arms)

the sun would be almost going down
sliding through the bay windows
through my blanket curtains

and Devendra's voice
over the small guitar

there were no other sounds
during these times
all you could hear was that magic
in my temple

Monday, July 12, 2010


I may be obsessed
crazy, even and that is fine
I get that,
I get that all the time

Oh, and now we're casting stones
Not to decipher evil
but what is mine?
I get that,
I get that all the time

Father was a midnight driver
I hardly knew him
all I know is that his
hair was long
that's something to be proud of,
something to be proud of

Mother's upset
Dreaming of all of the answers
and all the crimes
If we can make it
Can we make it right this time?

Tuesday, July 6, 2010

Once I Was

a daddy's girl
who hid inside her father's hair
long black Shoshone
(but you're Mexican too so don't you dare forget that-i know i know i know)
he was beautiful in the 80s
all the girls wanted to date him
he wore track jackets
and drank
and did drugs because back then
it WAS cool.

he now lives in New Mexico
where i've never been
but man, i've seen the most beautiful pictures
his house
is on flatland
with cactus and
and a dog in the backyard

my brothers are getting older
one of them is a god
and the other
well, the other one is brainwashed
by my father, the one with the raven hair
and a sad heart.

my father -i remember-
he used to hide out and "relax" in the garage
and listen to Led Zeppelin and Alice in Chains
while staring at the sky...
or maybe i'm mistaken
maybe it was I who stared out into the sky
while he sat in his recliner chair and
hummed along to the sound.
i would block him out and
draw circles with my eyes
over the stars
as my restless heels scraped against the driveway
you see when i was a teenager
i never wore shoes
and i was always angry.
(we are always angry at that age)

well, now my father
listens to Nirvana
in a garage
somewhere in New Mexico.
he calls me when he's drunk
to lament and to scorn

and my heart is halfway torn
between wanting to love you
and wanting to forget
your raven hair
i now own.

Monday, July 5, 2010


Hey dad

holidays are uncomfortable rituals
that i don't feel like performing.

thank you.

tonight, i miss you.
you're somewhere in New Mexico...
i imagine you have a huge porch
with your 2 story house.
i imagine a full yard with dogs and no trash.
you're so clean
clean clean
wearing your sports t-shirts and a bald head
and your leg brace
(that -that -i can never forget)

do you still listen to Led Zeppelin in your garage
late at night?
where you sit in your chair and stare up at the sky?

i'm looking up there tonight
waiting to hear your hymns

i promise
i will keep my ears open this time.