Feliz Laura Molina

 

Hoodrat on a Greyhound

As we rode through the border I pressed softly
to make a friend appear though where does the country end
if not when you blink. Ghosts in the haze
of identity formations how else can I keep track of you
in LA do you like it more than once
were they finger fucking instead
every girl is that sorrowful hoodrat Veronica
weeping into the Shroud of Turin
with a dirty American Apparel t-shirt

 

The Movie

Movies employed our legs
we bought tickets to watch ourselves through actors

 A warm and silvery masturbation—
your image on top of your image

I kept watching strangers in search of you
asking the difference between anyone

 

Paris, Las Vegas

In this city young-girls hold hands with ghosts of flâneurs
Their ethos combined, their bodies becoming-desiring machines
I’ve no money for roulette, only generative tourettes 
searching for outlets to produce narratives
cuz’ I’ll make you crazy I’ll make you crazy
the ownership of bodies is not exhausting
I’ve compassion for her ass and breasts
we are not meat, we are lovers infinitely subtractable
because of our fathers and mothers
so what if they say you’re a holder of commodities
they have no love for you, but I do I do
Young girl get out of my mind
my love for you is way out of line
better run girl you’re much too young girl
cuz’ of modern conditions of production
love has never been more possible

 

Indigenous Strip Mall American

Flipping hair and tails like it’s the truth
should we get up and rent a movie
should we be productive
spend little money 

Pointless truths, soft
and rubbery, a fuck it rubbery

We stood famous as front yard flamingos
in a foreclosed Blockbuster, we could have died
from too much Pamela Anderson
we would have been alright with that

because she’s so many things
made of all that beach and silver screen

 

Feast Day of St. John of the Cross

Clothes cycle and spin below breaking news
of an elementary school shooting
on the phone my mother says
why don’t you have your own poetry tv show?
& I say mom you can’t just have your own tv show
it takes a lot of hard work
you have to know a lot of things
I don’t know a lot of things
like how to have a tv show
how do you even begin to have a tv show?
& she says you know how to use the computer, what about the youtube?
& I say
what
the
fuck
are
you
talking
about
why don’t you and dad move to Manila
social security will go far there
Is there a place in the world we don’t have to risk
being alive
being in kindergarten
being virtualess
could we do laundry in Luzon hot springs and laugh compassionately at all the
American horror
& the president glows above beautiful bottles of cheer tide and snuggle
wipes his face and says no set of laws can prevent evil in this world
& I say mom what’s a mass shooting
and why do they happen all the time
& she says today is the feast day of St. John of the Cross
you should bring money to offer a candle after Mass
& I say I
have
no
more
quarters
my clothes are still wet
and the parking meter is
running out of time

 

All poems written by Feliz Laura Molina