(the story gained popularity through washed up
or because the light outside is holy digital
the window behind is behind behind
football stars flicker and die
you walk further into hella useless
collapse of everything in swimming pool everything
American dollar afterglow, young graduates grew beards
moved to the Middle East to pay off student loans
Is this the way to move through everything.
(babe I tried to find you on Skype
babe the phone and friend died
babe lets apply to this and that
babe lets buy lotto tickets after mass
after mass, babe)
the sun spins Fatima making Fatima anywhere
cheese puffs in hand lets throw
quarters at birds and bury our laundry
see where we could live, see where in the world they'll pay us to live
Just like that bitch Carmen San Diego
in heels and red trench coat like she always knew where to go.
Say to me just once: Tonight will be like other ones hanging off sweaters, rose flicker of the first person pronoun. The sequence of wet beads, fall of the misty interval and the cell phone rang inward. It was April, like most films when the rain carries a suffix and I can never put myself on pause; what failing twilight of the ampersand so give me your hand and don't let go.
Feliz Lucia Molina recently earned an MFA in Poetry from Brown University. Her poems have appeared and are forthcoming in Shampoo #39, Titular Journal, Dark Sky Magazine, Corrugated Press, and Ubu Web's Publishing the Unpublishable. She lives and teaches in Buffalo, NY.