we worshipped tape deck and broadcast simon and garfunkel righteous brothers
tv-room sofa dad’s mustache always fretted with reeking membranes of rum.
i left him for the porch--paper-backs and crickets soggy drawings in the mossy spring.
blackberry summers i severed grass daydreamed of boys with highschool hair assembled
my bicycle watered dirty lettuce gardens felt ashamed to think about shaving my legs.
we worshipped tape deck and car stereo the beatles led zeppelin jimi hendrix.
outside in the cracks of the rhododendrons spiders sustained the same for ever and still
cruel queer smells seeped from dad’s room his tan eyes unfocused his eyelashes tangled.
i left him for the grocery store—egg noodles and cream milk butter alien-scented potato.
back in the car stuck between that steaming machinery and the velvet underground
searing floor of the parking lot pressed the sun sank me into my seat.
i left my seatbelt on dragging thoughts through all the things i could be angry about.
girls from school all those poor lovely people dead and mom buried in those tv lights but
her jaw sifting not knowing where to put cheeks arranging lips tiny trickling sounds.
i worshipped my cd player radiohead and nick drake and once dad but now he’s watching
and who are belle and sebastian and when did you get so tall and are you a lesbian now? but just
now let daisies dangle upward from the ground tufted little honey bees dipping and the sunlight
and i worshipped them all this song braided in and i smelled the potato in the bag next to me and
i leave the car somehow and when i open the door i’m sure we’re all mumbling toward better.
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