my girl

jordyn


i love you

old skull

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


you old skull.

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)

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

breaking

over the small guitar

sound

there were no other sounds

during these times

all you could hear was that magic

in my temple

room

DRIVER

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?

Once I Was

a daddy's girl
who hid inside her father's hair
long black Shoshone
hair
(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
hawks
and a dog in the backyard
the AMERICAN/NON AMERICAN family

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.

Hey

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.