I wish there was a way.

I wish there was a way.
A way for me to say what I feel day to day.
Because in the day to day
shuffle struggle I am lost.
And all these new conflicts conflict
with all these imposed afflictions and
nothing is enough to smooth these ruffled feathers,
rough touches and smooth notes veto my vote
to understand,
instead I stand open and needing
a hiding place.

So I turn, to you, and
burn for you
asking please.
And even as you try to get a grip on me
my already slipping sanity
slips further away to irrational anger,
dished out to anyone in
striking distance. But in this
instance I still ask,
with palms bared,
for you to create psalms with your lips
and put my soul to rest
with a religion of you.

They melted

body melted
heart beat melted
heart beat break
heart break
how

Grief deep
sad deep
deep bodies
never ending still
still
learn to fly
no

need touch
touch bodies
support
wrap
support around
be my cornerstone
of flesh
you

A Promise to You

“You look pretty,” someone says.

And I think: today is as good a day to die as any.

All my actions this Tuesday morning seem predetermined.

Invisible fishing line tied around my fingertips

guiding them for you, or me.

My fingers find earrings shaped like wings, gold

your gold, not my everyday silver.

Seems as good a day to die as any.

Tuesday doesn’t sit right with me, and I apologize,

I should have warned you, but

I didn’t have the words.

This morning I awoke from a nightmare,

my body strained and bent like a bow.

I didn’t understand until the message came,

broken and misspelled

-Shes critcal & fadin-

Seems as good a day to die as any.

On the bus I can’t help but see, gruesome scenes

of a quick and painless end. I pray

that the bus is struck and they find me

the only fatality.

And I think: today is as good a day to die as any.

I was guided to these golden wings,

but guarding you was never the question.

Lourdes Salangsang Fernandez Ford, you will not die today

because God will take me instead.

4/4

Snap gasp hush quick

Whisper another rhythm in my ear

You’ve built up sound

To god-like status

And I don’t even know how to begin coming down

There’s something about the way you make me feel part of

So much and alone as I listen

Notes kiss reverberation and I’m struck silent with your melody

Whine slide strike press

The tempo skips faster

My heart tries to follow, pulsing blood through my veins trying to harmonize

The air thrumming trying to express itself with excited atoms bouncing off of everything

All because of you

Succulent sound

Deep tremulous music

You engulf me a tear me apart with notes and chords and progressions almighty

Your crescendos lift me and crush me repeatedly and every time it’s a complete surprise

I live my life by your measure

4/4

You Can Control

PLAY Beautiful little girl telling us which Marvel Comics we were, leader

FAST FORWARD Big sistercousin, takes point, designating sleeping arrangements avoid friendly fire on holidays

WATCH FOR A BIT

Artist, breathtaking design, decides she wants to start seeing the swirls of paint behind her eyelids

Wants to feel the color of gods on the back of her tongue and these tiny tabs will get her there

PAUSE They got her PLAY

Police got you, and still wild spirit you escaped that place

Where they take you back to the beginning before it all

You tried and they tried 3 times

FAST FORWARD New country, old family, shield you from all but yourself

At your meetings to get better you did

Get better junk

STOP You gave your body for mind Altering crap.

And you still didn’t PAUSE

And look at yourself.

Sitting on my toilet

expensive poison laid out on a 7 dollar cd case

Trembling and Sweating, uncaring of the dollar bill rolled up your nose

Because you believed it made you able

Able to be human, and feel. You lied to me.

I ask

Can’t you believe, makes… succeed can’t you… without

STOP, REWIND

Without … you can’t succeed… makes, believe you can’t

Because these drugs twist your synapses and replay your life in reverse PAUSE

You need to, look at the FREEZE FRAME mirror and see

Your image is shaking with the effort of being still PLAY

And without meaning to you are on FAST FORWARD

Looking for the next speed bump that won’t even slow you down

Baby girl, when will you STOP

Like A River

I want you so close that you meld into me,
Flowing through my veins like time itself.

Because I need you, need you to melt your body to mine and touch-
need the hush
of skin brushing skin touching skin to hot
need you to Ground me,

Make me Feel

with your skin on muscle on bone on Life-
I strive to survive a day without you and
it hurts.
Never have I given others power
over Me

Don’t even let their painful words hurt
wont let them and yet,
you have been the Only One
to break me

what 18 years of life could not do you did in a day,
and while I can while away time pretending not
not to care
I still hurt.

And try as I might to choose
Choose not to feel you
need you
want You here

I can’t stop my heart from aching so fervently for
You.

Wishes for Kisses to speak unspoken Forgiveness’s
but no,
how to cope with love and Hate-
how to get used to being used and needing so great-
letting go just to hold on

to something that might not be Real at all.
Real but not there.
Existing but not tangible.

I wish you would act not just say,
for hollow words break me more than actions desired-

because you do it to get results
and the result is I’m Addicted
to something lethal

inner battle to gain control over the mic
my heart wants you Gone and Here and gone and with

with Me

Making me feel

loved

love

why

Galing Sa Bayan Ko

I may not look brown, but my blood runs dark.

There is something about the jungle that never lets go. It travels through lineage. Through instinct. Through the simple words and gestures.

When my brother and I were little our mother would take us in her arms and stand in the shower. Heartbeat to heartbeat, days when she held and protected – but things pass.

Still, humidity cannot help but bring a sense of belonging.

Cold water grounds you.

Short soft round sounds lull you.

The tradition, the music, the cooking, the culture. Beneath the keep-face city-living, only the heart of survival and family and faith can be found.

Broken shadows of maternal lineage broken bridges disconnecting from the past only whispers of yesterday last an old language rising and falling half wind half rain brown hands that match the earth.

Twig broom tied with straw stir up the smells of the sun and steaming rice lying under banana leaves as caribou bake in dirt and sun. Tilapia and lechon spread out on card tables.

They squat on the ground by the cinders, heady smell of coconut milk, and chinelas padding down the dirt road.

Short sounds of Tagalog roll like marbles out of the mouth. Their smiles and laughs and big curious eyes, which inquisitively - stare politely asking, watching the sky and water for forbidden return to the jungle.

The cousins and the chismis. And the chalk-cō-lāte. Telling the stories of the fairies, dwarves, and the white lady.

Sinigang, lumpia, champarado.

Tagaytay and Borakay.

10 miles to the city of cardboard and tires. Watusi and dirty ice cream vendors.

Men with Orangutans in Luneta Park.

Ice skating at Mega Mall, and french fry stands.

Maids working in 10 foot walled fortresses, with broken glass rubber cemented to the top of those walls.

Rich kids mothered by babysitters, as the family tries to become American.

Leaving escaping this rich country that is mine still.

Galing sa bayan ko.

I Think He Knew Me

It’s just before dark and

A fast gulp of hot chocolate burns my throat.

I turn up my jacket collar

and tamp down the cravings

of an unnecessary fix

of a life past.

I have no eye for the now.

I need to press

my cold hands against warm skin

and I give a man a heated look, but

the warm blooded stranger

thinks I’m eyeing his Bluetooth

and trades me an icy scowl.

I slide into the heavy

foot-traffic,

walking as if

I have somewhere

to go

and nearly trip

on a homeless man

who is missing a leg.

I offer up the pastry I bought,

Smiling

Because he could have been my brother

Some life long gone.

-Angelica Thumm

(influenced by “Last Tango in Fresno” by Luis Omar Salinas)

Thursday Morning

The wind creeps in the window crack,

crisp 7AM air brings sounds of

mourning doves.

The tangle of sheets, a cocoon of warmth,

guards skin from a cool spring breeze.

Baby evergreens brush a cadence against window screens,

politely calling for attention.

You snuffle and roll over,

skin goose-bumped from the touch of a fresh draft,

hiding sensitive eyelids from the bright white sky.

I slide closer.

A strand of hair falls onto my face,

as I press my cheek into the dip

between bare shoulder blades.

Your heart beats in time to the outdoors.