tonight is made out of stickers, with the night sharpied in, gandhi was vietnamese, jimmy believes spiderman saved baby ishle park in the movie (why does spiderman read longfellow? bullshit! pick up some bao phi!) jose rocked a printer on his right shoulder as if it was a ghetto blaster from the movie beat street, tapes still lodged in with the cold crush brothers scotched back together, songs like they're strung into our veins, we rock hearts louder than tapedecks, our arms are speakers, raise a fist, strike a nerve, we'll always turn the volume up to level 11.

lazy afternoons with ~~~~. help, i lost my tongue in the thin cracks of a hardwood floor, my lips fell off outside a vietnamese restaurant on college avenue, falling lazily like wingless pigeons, you yanked out my teeth when i was sleeping and used them to scratch poems onto my chest, i've got something to say to you, but no mouth to say it with.

horchata on sunny sunday afternoons is the breast milk of angels. the breast milk of angels!