Where do I come from/my footsteps
Covered by snow white dumbo
And tinkerbell a 39 cent hamburger
Is one of my parents' fondest
Haunt me.

The sky is falling
Only the wind fills her sails/are filled
With broken English
Sentences/you know what that is?/ Lots of
Blank spaces and notches on a wall

And how did I get this name
What madness flees your rope
This name this river Eder flows
From a foreign continent to drip
Some wear in the mountains of Ilocos Norte
(And tinkerbell swoops form the mata horn)
How many how many how many
Times did she curse this name
sewn into the seam
of a bellowing tapestry

in the wind
in the wind
when things that are finished
and where will I live
armored asylum with veins
outside of some ware called
and hope in every

without knowing the hear
that feasts on belonging/still

the sky is falling.

La Puente

we lived east of east L.A. / La Puente
we were latch key kids / our suburban commandments:
lock the door
don't open to strangers
make sure you turn off the stove
it's hot in L.A. / cook rice

my mother worked / making components
she built the screws that bring you the news
you'll never see her on T.V. / though
she speaks 4 languages:
wife-speak mother-speak

she's medicated a lot / my mom / always translating
her favorite drugs are love and jewels
we all shine
in her eyes

my father delivers the mail / he's a good man
but now he walks through classy neighborhoods / no one talks
to him / he fears loose dogs and people there
he's been attacked / but he's a good man

my brother chuck / is the darkest / living in
the shadow between right and wrong / but together
we threw pinecones at passing cars
our father / kicked more shit outta him than me /
told me I should know better / what does that mean
now the system that puts him on reserve / puts me
on hold / we are equal now

I have another brother / he's an acquaintance

in junior high they called me la rascal
we wrote a lot / our names on walls /
we belonged / outside of walls
my best friend David - his mother still calls
him - I can hear her now -was
into glue at 11 / in juvey by 13 / in jail…he was a man then
I used to give him drugs from college /
I hope he's still alive

David and I and La Bridgett Fletcher
hung out growing up / for a long time
till race, class, and gender (the design of waste)
bulldozed through our street corner playground
common ground
till shame concealed our black and blues

growing up / for a long time / lost childhood
we began writing in secret
when confession, communion, confirmation
taught us to lie / swallowed up our pure loyalty
growing up / for a long time / lost childhood
friends till
my parents came between their D's and my A's
Ma - the right crowd does not exist /
I look for David and La Bridgett in everyone I know.

"asylum" and "la puente"
#2 ballad off the boom box by theo gonzalvez
elsa's answering machine by fate.
Rec. 10/5/97 @ HYPERLINK…1536.

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