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when La Yndia arrived from Sandia Peaks

9/9/2012

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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


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    Chaley Chastitellez

    Annals of Aztec demigods, Chican@s more Dedalusians in slouches, Quetzalcoatls in jumpsuits.

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