30.03.04 - 8:29 p.m.

californias freeways run through my body like
veins, make me crave them when i cant think or
want to cry, need to be alone in a pod with
a million others whirring past not thinking,
crying and being alone. now two states away i get
in a car that will never feel like mine because
of its foreign plates and drive, turn back fifteen minutes
down the 5 for its lack of challenge, its
nothing to connect to no maze leading me to
poor mexican neighborhoods where clean laundry
airs over dead front lawns and the prettiest babies
run to meet me at stopsigns waving, ice-cream faced and

i left my heart in san diego
previous next

the project museum

the revolution will be catalogued

this american life

the library of congress

i used to believe







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