i got the joy, joy, joy, that's down in my heart...where? down in my heart
I remember when they killed her. I saw it on the news. Her body lay on the grass where she would have her lunch, with a boy who they said was a friend, but I suspect a teenage crush. Someone would wait for her everyday. Someone would dream of seeing her the next day. Her body lay, on the grass where she had her lunch, as her classmates run past for fear of their lives.
I didn't know her. I just saw her picture later and thought she was cute. People placed flowers on her car in the parking lot. It collected a lot of dust.
I mourned her death in my secret way; I collected newspaper clippings and magazine articles, kept it stashed away for years. I went on AOL and tried to get close to those who had known her. I dreamed of visiting her grave in another state but I couldn't figure out why. She became an object for my affection; I didn't know any of her flaws.
I thought of being religious like her, but I was angry and I suspect hate filled up in me. I hated everyone around me, with their petty bullshit. I fooled around with pipe bombs and CO2 canisters, I tried to live the disgruntled life of those who had killed her. I was playing a role I had heard about on the news...but no one seemed to want to bully me.
Over ten years passed, my teenage angst became so hollow. I rarely thought about her, but still kept the newspaper clippings stashed away. I didn't like to talk about it, as it felt like some weird fetish. It was like your family finding your porn collection or speed.
One drunken night in a sweet dream - I hadn't thought about her for years, and I guess this is why I'm writing this - I saw her walking to school from the parking lot with her friends. A guy had his arm around her and she was nonchalant and almost reluctant. She walked ahead, then turned back and put her head on his shoulder like a whiny teenage bitch, and it was so lovely. And that was all there was to it.
I don't know what to say about her. I almost loved her in my morbid but innocent way. It was easy; she was dead. And in my dreams, such adolescent times. Maybe she even smoked cigarettes on the sly with her friends.
Unnatural Sleep
I don't know if I slept. I don't know if I can take credit for the little vignettes my mind created. He was sitting there in the front seat, talking trash, and I in the back. Oddly, I thought I was driving. I didn't like the remarks he made about my shoes, because his were brown mountain hiking shoes and he said that's the way to go. His culture and mine, we think completely unlike. He wouldn't spend that much money on clothes and on cars- that is to say, on the brands that determine those prices. But he has a cozy home, probably invests in stocks, will teach his children the value of independence and earning your own dollar. He has visited the Grand Canyon and the Nation's Capital and Hearst Castel..and Virginia. I thought I would slyly steal the money from his wallet, I don't know how, but I could distinctly feel that the money would somehow be in my hand. I could take it and when I woke up he couldn't hold it against me. I opened my eyes, and I thought the same, that I need to do it, I'm going to do it. That's when I realized - my eyes were open and it hit me, that I was on my couch, the room was dark except for some buzz. My own buzz was basically useless and transitory. This time I knew it would be impossible; the only way was to sneak into his home maybe another day, like an ordinary robber. The impulse left me; even if I had succeeded in getting the cash, as much as I squeezed my eyes, the money would not materialize. So I closed my eyes again and I was into another vignette. I would be in the exact same state after my buzz as before, with only my sensations allowing me to stray from the normal state of things.
afterwards, it didn't make sense, what happened to my bike?
I was waiting in my car for the girls to come out. I went to the back window where I could see into a room that was dark except for a light from the hall. I slid the window open because it was unlocked, and went in. I opened the drawer where the girls kept their underwear, and grabbed a handful of bra and panty. Pink ones with padding, I didn't like the padding, but the panties were soft and touched her skin. I stuffed the loot in my pants and ran out. I saw one of the girls walk out into the park, I guess to meet someone, and at that moment I drove away. I hoped they would not remember me waiting there in the evening.
School was getting out and we all walked across the street to the park. I was walking near a skinny black woman with frail gray hair and cheekbones, and I said, "Hey, mamma, you wanna to buy some underwear?" She smiled and said, "maybe, if they're cheap, like three dollars." I said I'd give her two for six dollars. She agreed and I took out the pink underwear from my pants. I was on my bike and she was sitting on the wooden bench. She took out from her purse a twenty and a single dollar. Before she could say anything, I said to give me the twenty and I could give her back change. She gave me the bill and I started to run away. I looked back to see what her face looked like and what she was saying, but everything was slow and I was afraid of her reaching me.
School was getting out and we all walked across the street to the park. I was walking near a skinny black woman with frail gray hair and cheekbones, and I said, "Hey, mamma, you wanna to buy some underwear?" She smiled and said, "maybe, if they're cheap, like three dollars." I said I'd give her two for six dollars. She agreed and I took out the pink underwear from my pants. I was on my bike and she was sitting on the wooden bench. She took out from her purse a twenty and a single dollar. Before she could say anything, I said to give me the twenty and I could give her back change. She gave me the bill and I started to run away. I looked back to see what her face looked like and what she was saying, but everything was slow and I was afraid of her reaching me.
XanaX
The best part was when we were driving across the bridge and I could see the roller-coaster park on the ocean. I had a fear of heights but I loved how high the ride would go.
I'm a kid again. I love to cuddle in bed with my blanket, and never leave. Like a cold morning before school, I just peed and ran back. My groove is warm. I never ever want to leave!
I'm a kid again. I love to cuddle in bed with my blanket, and never leave. Like a cold morning before school, I just peed and ran back. My groove is warm. I never ever want to leave!
A demon took over me in Las Vegas
I needed a cab as I could walk no longer. I thought about it, and I payed him. I realized I didn't care if it was real or not. I couldn't believe the abundance of supply; I couldn't believe how we found each other. It was 5am and I was dressed my best - crumpled, all Hugo Boss Selection - from the night that began with good intentions. At some point, I just walked off... I think I spent the last couple hours passed out at a massage parlour, and I must have thrown my cell phone at the girl who wouldn't let me sleep any longer. My friends, they abandoned me. I'm sure they felt the same about me. It occured to me that I did not even revist the places where I loved her. So much for the poetics.
How intriguing I must be - downright cool, strutting - in the priority bus stop sitting, not knowing there is no bus. I didn't care, I was waiting for my taxi anyway. The cab pulls out, drives a few feet, mysterious...and I'm out. The whole transaction lasting a few yards. I am like I always wonder, at people driving on the freeway, people on the Strip...how I'm longing to see, go home with them tonight. Smoke weed and see a Maybach in a shady scene, parking in a mediocre apartment lot, I picture the girl, her smile, her voice, and the way she must be looking at him...how mischievious her lips will be that night.
I walk staring down at all times - I'm busy, and the girls know. Swaggering as I'm staggering, How intriguing I must be, sexy like a turn on, sitting with my legs crossed, the Thinker, smoking my cigarette like I'm on heroin. I thought everybody knew my story, or that I had one to tell. Mine was different, not vulgar, ghetto or measly, like all those others before me. I am nothing new.
...you don't understand - one tear comes out and my mouth contorts, and I don't know if I just laughed or cried or what to do next. It's the irrational purging of Drain-O and rat poison. I never wanted to snuff it more than today, but it's only for one day, caught in the moment. Tomorrow I'll be a clown again. I'll erase this in the morning.
How intriguing I must be - downright cool, strutting - in the priority bus stop sitting, not knowing there is no bus. I didn't care, I was waiting for my taxi anyway. The cab pulls out, drives a few feet, mysterious...and I'm out. The whole transaction lasting a few yards. I am like I always wonder, at people driving on the freeway, people on the Strip...how I'm longing to see, go home with them tonight. Smoke weed and see a Maybach in a shady scene, parking in a mediocre apartment lot, I picture the girl, her smile, her voice, and the way she must be looking at him...how mischievious her lips will be that night.
I walk staring down at all times - I'm busy, and the girls know. Swaggering as I'm staggering, How intriguing I must be, sexy like a turn on, sitting with my legs crossed, the Thinker, smoking my cigarette like I'm on heroin. I thought everybody knew my story, or that I had one to tell. Mine was different, not vulgar, ghetto or measly, like all those others before me. I am nothing new.
...you don't understand - one tear comes out and my mouth contorts, and I don't know if I just laughed or cried or what to do next. It's the irrational purging of Drain-O and rat poison. I never wanted to snuff it more than today, but it's only for one day, caught in the moment. Tomorrow I'll be a clown again. I'll erase this in the morning.
on a clear day
I had lunch at this Asian place known by those in Glendale for their three dollar pastrami sandwiches. Is it bomb? It was one of those days where I could smirk at the world as I drove cocky cigarette in mouth, I could feel the sweetness of hearty laughter in me. In the parking lot as I walked a beat up Honda pulled up to me, a guy in half-Armenian half-English called me over. "Brother, can you help? I just need a little money, for gas." He was scratching all over looking around not at me. I thought about my black tar friend and the different paths I went with him. I wanted to say to him that every morning I have to remind myself to stay strong no matter what my mind says, but really I was thinking of what I would do on another day. I wanted to keep him with me in the moment but all I could say was, "No brother; I can see why." What does he care for my sentamentality? I wanted to say more things to him as he drove off.
In the sandwich shop came in an old friend turned common interest turned friend again. He was with his girlfriend. He looked good. I caught him outside and we laughed about ___, to whom I introduced him. Walking in hesitant into his accounting office slash recording studio. All the instruments people must have traded in; he was like the dealer from Requiem. It's alwasy nice to smile at people on these clear days. "No, I haven't touched the stuff," I told him.
I still regret not mentioning to the stranger the Monday and Thursday night meetings, with those who speak our language. Doubt that would help, but they are sincere. He looked older than me. I'm sure he knew.
It's always dangerous to be around anyone who can understand. The rest can just talk. You never get to the end of it till it's gone.
In the sandwich shop came in an old friend turned common interest turned friend again. He was with his girlfriend. He looked good. I caught him outside and we laughed about ___, to whom I introduced him. Walking in hesitant into his accounting office slash recording studio. All the instruments people must have traded in; he was like the dealer from Requiem. It's alwasy nice to smile at people on these clear days. "No, I haven't touched the stuff," I told him.
I still regret not mentioning to the stranger the Monday and Thursday night meetings, with those who speak our language. Doubt that would help, but they are sincere. He looked older than me. I'm sure he knew.
It's always dangerous to be around anyone who can understand. The rest can just talk. You never get to the end of it till it's gone.
she looked so much older now
I saw a woman at a Del Taco on Glenoaks. She was walking away from the restroom as I went in. I walked back to see who she was with, some guy towards the back, his back turned away from the crowd. She has two daughters, or she had two. They're off on their own now, or in another home, or with their grandmother. One of them was born with a brain defect, one of them is 16, always with her boyfriend. She's not a virgin anymore, you know?
No one likes to hear from her. My mom last saw her at the mall with a blue denim skirt. She's always with someone new or in jail, with her husband. She's always telling stories, always lying.
Her father was my favorite great-uncle growing up. He always made me laugh. We watched wrestling together, and when he was visiting, he liked to watch old Western movies, and he loved Burt Lancaster. I guess he was big in Tehran. Her father recently died of a heart attack. My parents say his daughter drove him to it.
No one likes to hear from her. My mom last saw her at the mall with a blue denim skirt. She's always with someone new or in jail, with her husband. She's always telling stories, always lying.
Her father was my favorite great-uncle growing up. He always made me laugh. We watched wrestling together, and when he was visiting, he liked to watch old Western movies, and he loved Burt Lancaster. I guess he was big in Tehran. Her father recently died of a heart attack. My parents say his daughter drove him to it.
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