It was the first time I remember seeing him. I didn't remember having a son before Lucas. His name is Rai, but his family pronounce it Ray. He lives with his grandmother, young uncle, and his father. They all live in his grandmother's one bedroom condominium. I've been to this place before. I had come here with Lucas. Rai's father had called me up from his balcony when he saw Lucas and I walking in front of his building. When we walked in the whole house was dark. The only places we were able to see were the living room and the bathroom. Now, accompanied by no one, I see the dining room is used as a bedroom. I see a China cabinet, without its doors and without its sides, used as an open dresser. I see some folded shirts, pants, some clothes scattered around. I notice a neon yellow-green ninja turtle shirt- Lucas has one just like it. Rai is 6 or 7 going unto 8. His grandmother leaves to the store with his uncle. I stay in the house wi
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Preserve our way of life , is your personal entreaty embraced by thundering cheers temperamentally, stylistically the opposite of buttoned-up: berating and viral your comeback still grappling with weakness and extolling the virtues of the worst creation, you take center stage and hit your mark appropriated text from: Christie fires up Republicans with Obama critique By Thomas Beaumont/Beth Fouhy
inspired by the relationship between the planets and the sun Sun, I admire the way you keep your children aligned, how you keep them from bumping heads, how you still include Pluto, though he is far from your heat, But how do you feel when the little beings inside your children fight over who is the best? Earth excluded Pluto, Uranus fights for his name, Venus is sexualized, and Saturn is admired for his rings. How did Jupiter get that red spot? Was it because he tried to become as large as you? Do you fear Neptune will move far away from you? At least Mercury stays close to you, even though he can feel your burning stare.
(inspired by Joe Brainard's I Remember// https://www.poets.org/poetsorg/text/joe-brainard-i-remember) I remember the first time I learned the hand signal for ‘head’. I was wearing my ‘I heart NY’ shirt, sitting across from a boy who just flunked sixth grade. I remember the first time I saw a home with two wives. We (the kids) ate pizza and talked about Star Fox. The adults all had tortillas in their hands while watching Congo. I remember the roads we took while driving in (or out) of Mexico. I remember Spanish rock ballades about flying love and who to call ‘daddy’. I remember one long night in a van when my aunt banged her fist against the drivers head rest yelling for him to stop the car. She had to puke. I remember feeling like the van, so heavy with passengers, could easily fall into the abyss because it was pitch black outside. The only light came from the radio and the van headlights. I remember shopping for Christmas clothes with my dad
Fuck your blank walls and clean floors (with your piss all over the toilet seat) Fuck your Sweet Caroline’s and Eileen’s Fuck your extra bright light bulb by the excessively large, one toilet, bathroom (men lurk around the corner with glass bottles, in the dark) Fuck your pointless struggle to survive when, your name is seared on everything when, your face makes everything better when, your attention is a blessing (in disguise) But, we all matter. we all struggle to fulfill our dreams we all are men and women made equally under god. Survival is a privilege blessed upon the most fittest beings… …Who happen to own season tickets to the front row.