Chaley sd AYE DIOS MIO / shit girl /
didn’t know you wuz Yndia Yndian & she
darknightsky hair / pointed & dignified--
daresay aristocratic nose—invited
him to dinner w/ her folks / all ate
fat chiles relleno’d w/ beef & golden Amurkan queso
& drank dark dark modelos & when her maMA asked
C what his folks worked to make
bread / janitors Chaley immediately thought
to himself best not say that:
pop mines / moms drives her
pinche bus he sd & at that instant
¡ C U M B I A ! y ¡holy shattered sequence!
¡great jumping chronotopes!
directly as La Yndia
grabbed Chaley by hand
pushing him to electric dancefloor
redpinkbluepurple lights spinning
shake yr hips my mariposa
mercy he thought tuya tuya TUYA
& EPA[1] aye mamita
chinga que S E E
& like Ysrael & Ulises Solís-Freholerehy on one side
& LOS PANCHOS on that other
C cd only think tapping into all snapped mapped moments
of tranquilitated ‘flections such as this one “I know / huh . . . I can do ese”
sd to himself there’s not much to this
if I can’t do this
I lose all faith in myself as a man or future man
& yes he sd his folks didn’t clean offices
nope / no dignity in that for these Yndia Yndians
got papeles after all / not like
granddad Pancho or los Solís
so move made
& sitting afterward in their booth her parents back
question still hung in air / that bus / maybe
too pinche forward / well yes / pues yeah
cabrón & excusing himself
to hmphs from La Yndia’s folks
presumptive of his workingpoor
roots Chaley at the bar alone
w/ La Yndia (& thinking to La Llorona)
La Yndia rubbed
his thigh under leg of his wranglers she scratched
his skin w/ her nails she smiled & stared
into his eyes/ then down to her hand on his wranglers
& back thru to his lips she’s beautiful & from her pocket
w/ one hand some sand & w/ her other hand rubbed
it on his ankle that’s for you she sd that’s all
for you you take it all all that sand
& you keep it it’s all here / all for you
I don’t care abt money /
that sounds romantic he didn’t know how
to respond ¿wd he say something sexy or flattering
or nice? / looked at her hand up his leg
“¿when they start a-mandatin pre-meddy
“future ped’tricians be poets?” laughed
& she pulls her hand away
poetry & fire . . .
wide shot Yndia’s obsidian dark eyes / shimmers of lights
behind her outline / left dead center
wide shot of Chaley’s brow & brown eyes / looking down
away somewhere
& Chaley sipped his important ice-cold import draft
& yes yes he seemed to hear her think & sense
realized sitting near you think you wd see yrself in . . . not
more than that that . . . saw bc yr body
simply body & how wd . . . not feel warmlight
near / constantly brushing limbs touching unison
intellectually no one touches / sorry / still
not unless you can provide new insight into
Paradise Lost somehow glossed then & yes then forever
well success / pues / & later in her parents’ home
when he started twisting her nipples
like grapes in a vise she found that onanistic
then phantasies (where she saw her father beating herself shamed
her into wanting him) / she cdn’t wait /
his breath stank of hops & instantly recalled
her gloomy memory
—her first--
in the New Makesicken woods / she was fifteen--
“don’t want to hear abt this” sd C
“first listen” Yndia sd
—& she continued bc if he was her lover
he wd know her--
. . . well . . .
she has
second thoughts / slaps her / she
kicks / he pulls / wrenches off her dress
& rips her down she twitches &
twists & squirms & bites & fights
but she’s small & that just makes
his slaps quicken anyway so she
just gives & cries & plays “garage”
he gurgled too . . . faster . . . & she left herself motionless
& he finished & pain sharp sudden pains
hard jerky kicked harder & more violent
& . . . stop . . . release . . . he fell
asleep on her / breath of
beer / snores hops on her face /
took her fifteen minutes
to roll out from under his body / sweat
lubing her freedom blood
running down her legs / btwn asscheeks
dripped down/ dirt
on her back & in her hair / sharp pains
she’s split from him & she rushed
from him & ran w/o her slippers
she ran
home thinking of how to tell her father
his brother did that . . .
“chingao / chingao / chingao”
. . . yeah / I know / & pieces of Jesus slipped
off her small mouth & covered
tan napkin draping
her chin & never /& for C ever /
had those eyes blacker
than night been more
radiant than that night but
maybe it was the wine
or maybe the Henry James
narration
making him go mad or
maybe hopelessness itself
romantically wiping that smear
under her left ear / pushing
up earring hanging silver square / wishing
to be there where neither
was wasn’t & wasn’t was either
[1] it’s hard to
find the sounds that sound the same /
sounds that give name
didn’t know you wuz Yndia Yndian & she
darknightsky hair / pointed & dignified--
daresay aristocratic nose—invited
him to dinner w/ her folks / all ate
fat chiles relleno’d w/ beef & golden Amurkan queso
& drank dark dark modelos & when her maMA asked
C what his folks worked to make
bread / janitors Chaley immediately thought
to himself best not say that:
pop mines / moms drives her
pinche bus he sd & at that instant
¡ C U M B I A ! y ¡holy shattered sequence!
¡great jumping chronotopes!
directly as La Yndia
grabbed Chaley by hand
pushing him to electric dancefloor
redpinkbluepurple lights spinning
shake yr hips my mariposa
mercy he thought tuya tuya TUYA
& EPA[1] aye mamita
chinga que S E E
& like Ysrael & Ulises Solís-Freholerehy on one side
& LOS PANCHOS on that other
C cd only think tapping into all snapped mapped moments
of tranquilitated ‘flections such as this one “I know / huh . . . I can do ese”
sd to himself there’s not much to this
if I can’t do this
I lose all faith in myself as a man or future man
& yes he sd his folks didn’t clean offices
nope / no dignity in that for these Yndia Yndians
got papeles after all / not like
granddad Pancho or los Solís
so move made
& sitting afterward in their booth her parents back
question still hung in air / that bus / maybe
too pinche forward / well yes / pues yeah
cabrón & excusing himself
to hmphs from La Yndia’s folks
presumptive of his workingpoor
roots Chaley at the bar alone
w/ La Yndia (& thinking to La Llorona)
La Yndia rubbed
his thigh under leg of his wranglers she scratched
his skin w/ her nails she smiled & stared
into his eyes/ then down to her hand on his wranglers
& back thru to his lips she’s beautiful & from her pocket
w/ one hand some sand & w/ her other hand rubbed
it on his ankle that’s for you she sd that’s all
for you you take it all all that sand
& you keep it it’s all here / all for you
I don’t care abt money /
that sounds romantic he didn’t know how
to respond ¿wd he say something sexy or flattering
or nice? / looked at her hand up his leg
“¿when they start a-mandatin pre-meddy
“future ped’tricians be poets?” laughed
& she pulls her hand away
poetry & fire . . .
wide shot Yndia’s obsidian dark eyes / shimmers of lights
behind her outline / left dead center
wide shot of Chaley’s brow & brown eyes / looking down
away somewhere
& Chaley sipped his important ice-cold import draft
& yes yes he seemed to hear her think & sense
realized sitting near you think you wd see yrself in . . . not
more than that that . . . saw bc yr body
simply body & how wd . . . not feel warmlight
near / constantly brushing limbs touching unison
intellectually no one touches / sorry / still
not unless you can provide new insight into
Paradise Lost somehow glossed then & yes then forever
well success / pues / & later in her parents’ home
when he started twisting her nipples
like grapes in a vise she found that onanistic
then phantasies (where she saw her father beating herself shamed
her into wanting him) / she cdn’t wait /
his breath stank of hops & instantly recalled
her gloomy memory
—her first--
in the New Makesicken woods / she was fifteen--
“don’t want to hear abt this” sd C
“first listen” Yndia sd
—& she continued bc if he was her lover
he wd know her--
. . . well . . .
she has
second thoughts / slaps her / she
kicks / he pulls / wrenches off her dress
& rips her down she twitches &
twists & squirms & bites & fights
but she’s small & that just makes
his slaps quicken anyway so she
just gives & cries & plays “garage”
he gurgled too . . . faster . . . & she left herself motionless
& he finished & pain sharp sudden pains
hard jerky kicked harder & more violent
& . . . stop . . . release . . . he fell
asleep on her / breath of
beer / snores hops on her face /
took her fifteen minutes
to roll out from under his body / sweat
lubing her freedom blood
running down her legs / btwn asscheeks
dripped down/ dirt
on her back & in her hair / sharp pains
she’s split from him & she rushed
from him & ran w/o her slippers
she ran
home thinking of how to tell her father
his brother did that . . .
“chingao / chingao / chingao”
. . . yeah / I know / & pieces of Jesus slipped
off her small mouth & covered
tan napkin draping
her chin & never /& for C ever /
had those eyes blacker
than night been more
radiant than that night but
maybe it was the wine
or maybe the Henry James
narration
making him go mad or
maybe hopelessness itself
romantically wiping that smear
under her left ear / pushing
up earring hanging silver square / wishing
to be there where neither
was wasn’t & wasn’t was either
[1] it’s hard to
find the sounds that sound the same /
sounds that give name
