I was off the hook when I dialed it in,
when this blue moon face
told me to head ‘er.
An action film at the Ridge where
I hit the curb on a righthand turn,
I’m not in my body today, babe.
Too many hours unsticking pages
in the old man’s ‘zines.
Yeah, yeah, I blame it on too much protein.
So, I go for late night carbs at
Anna Miller’s where I pull
on my beard, straining from bacon to, “What if..
I’d’ve given in to cigarettes?”
But they don’t look right on me,
like tatoos. Like tight pants.
Less James Dean, more Jimmy.
Damn them pigs!
With guns! With intentions!
There’s a scientist somewhere that says
the missing link may be swine.
Thinking of you, babe, with you’re too much sun.
A crispy, burned belly and boobs.
A lot of bright, brown faces here pull me from my theories,
simultaneously making my mouth water, my stomach bleed.
Smoking bodies. Sizzling bodies.
Rotisserie bodies.
No cure for me, babe.
My head between two shanks,
addicted to the briny aroma.
Looking for the pink, throwing to the coals
pulling for the pork, covering with dirt.
Monthly Archives: July 2015
Lanai Alumni at Golden City Chinese down from Kenny’s, which is closing.
Around the table.
One woman has a dark, black line
between her gums and teeth.
The one across from her keeps flipping her tongue,
unwrapping an imaginary Starburst,
while the one next to her keeps saying,
“Well, ooh, that’s nice.” All brown.
The man across to my right,
the darkest one, wears a checkered red and white
worker shirt. I hear my dad say, “Hey, is dat a Lanai shirt?”
The guy nods, but he can’t hear him.
His wife made the deaf sign earlier, shaking her head
and pointing to her ears. The one
with the black-lined gums, and is apparently known for her ong choy.
That’s what I had today at this luncheon, with rice and gravy.
The man directly opposite me, who
seems slightly annoyed with my dad, has cataracts
so thick he looks like a blue-eyed filipino.
He’s a manly, stern kind of guy, but the ladies
are more friendly with my dad. My dad, Bruno, with his
high pitched laugh-sigh, is the most chatty of them all
besides the “ooh, that’s nice” lady.
The guy next to me hardly says a word, but he gently
puts his hand on my shoulder when he leaves to pay. He wears
glasses I remember seeing my grandfather wear in photos.
Malcom X kind, but brown.
I can’t stop watching the lady with the tongue.
How she forms her words! It looks like it takes
so much effort, but her speech is smoother than
anybody else’s at the table. It’s a round table, by the way.
I look at Shirlene, in the corner, bagging the leftovers, been with my dad a long time.
I wonder if she is ever embarrassed that they aren’t married.
The lady from my Auntie Connie’s class at the table next to us tells me,
“Hawaii has claim to two saints now!”
I offer Shirlene some of my rice cake and she wipes off a fork and takes a piece.