BM Bradley
 
 
 
Chicana 

they kept her in 
a hole 
in the ground for 
eight months 

she ate there 
slept there 
and shit there 

they gave her 
cigarettes 
tequila 
and dope 

a bored guard 
taught her 
how to play chess 

because in Mexico 
they 
treat you right 

- she walked all the 
way from Mexico 

once falling asleep 
in a field 
to wake 
surrounded by 
deer, 

to end up living by the 
side of the freeway 
kicking dope 
in the bushes 

existing in McArthur park 
shitting in her pants, 
with 
a newborn baby 
and a habit 

- living in a shack with four kids 
two dogs, 

unpainted walls and army cot 
"just throw the fucking 
dishes out 
don't wash 
the goddamn things" 

"I woke up in the street 
with no top and my boots on, 
I guess they were 
to tight to 
take. I don't know if they 
fucked me, I only got in the car 
because they said 
they had money. 
here I am in America 
and one more time 
I'm sucking cock 
for money" 
  

beginning 

her mother through her out 
when she was 8 
because she was to 
pretty 

at twelve she didn't 
know she was pregnant 'til 
she had the baby 

32, in Mac Arthur park 
with a baby on one tit 
shit in her pants 
crack pipe 
and a monkey that's killin her 

she can still get $100 
for her ass 
  

inside 

I wanted to look 
inside: . . . 
see what it 
feels like to 
have your husband arrested 
so you can 
fuck me in the garage, 
while your sister watches 
your kids in the car 

hollow 

one more time 
I heard that laugh 

the one that says 
I did or said 
something 

totally insane 
without being 
aware 

one more time 
I heard that laugh 
that says . . . 

soon 
my phone calls 
won't even be 
returned 

Pokka 

romantic insanity 
came shuffling in 
on claws 
sticky with 
bitter distaste 

sitting at the table, 
like common folk 
soaked with 
rain, the 
roaring fire twisting and clutching 
about the room 
to cast empty shadows 
on the floor 
ceiling and 
shuttered windows 

I see that look 
in your eyes 
and I know 
it's time for me to leave 

so . . . silken slippers 
tango the 
two step waltz 
out of convenience 
predictability 
and uncertainty 

danger is left where 
it belongs 
nestled inside a cracked and 
broken, Faberge heart 
carefully crafted from past 
experience 

left on the shelf but dusted on 
each and every 
plausible occasion 
'til shinning like a '59 
Chevy bumper 'til 
the reflection, blinds the eyes 

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