my hands are the lurid white of a tourist's
but
a man called me his "hijita" today
opened the door for me and called me
his daughter, here:
where I am the pale dust
of a foreigner
in this neighborhood of
earth
Thursday, November 4, 2010
If it were up to me
I hate that all I can think
to write about
is how dissatisfied I am
with my hair.
If it were up to me
I'd have one room in my house
That was so full of pillows
that you couldn't find the floor.
And when I was tired of my existence being acknowledged
I'd dive in face first
and drown myself in goose feathers
and polyester.
to write about
is how dissatisfied I am
with my hair.
If it were up to me
I'd have one room in my house
That was so full of pillows
that you couldn't find the floor.
And when I was tired of my existence being acknowledged
I'd dive in face first
and drown myself in goose feathers
and polyester.
jesus...
I've been staring at this baby for an hour
do something, baby
your mom would sell the house
before losing you
moi? i say they let you suffer
a life not lived is not worth ending
so they say
now, you're harsh
go easy on me
you eat eggs
do something, baby
your mom would sell the house
before losing you
moi? i say they let you suffer
a life not lived is not worth ending
so they say
now, you're harsh
go easy on me
you eat eggs
not homicidal, No
man vs. himself
I said aloud to myself
(i'm a bit batty you see have been for years)
up a bit too high on my horse
a dollface! of course
'you emit waves of internal conflict'
he smiled at me
because I am completely helpless
up on my horse
I turn the light off at
12:17.
The air of the room
is still and hot.
Through the open window,
I hear the soundtrack
of a city--
ambulance wails.
man shouts.
subwoofer cracks windows.
plastic bags tumble.
It won't let me sleep,
so I get up and walk to the mirror
like a zombie.
I look at myself and say,
go to sleep
you mediocre fuckup.
4Loko is not a meal
your giant watch may glimmer in the fall sun
luck, it may be on your side, skybiker
well slept greasy hair, thick eyeliner
cursing halfgrinned, fair skin, what things to behold today
you pedalpeddle around under the impression that
an organic coffee drink brings all the bois
to the yard
you've been dreaming about Oprah again,
haven't you
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