Sticky sweet air rotting through the sputtering car
Sticky knotted hair on the bottom of your nape, clinging to the tender flesh.
Endless stretches of tan land, bracketed by endless expanses of blue sky
Mountains protruding from a distance.
Stepping out of the tiny sputtering car
Sticky sweet air melting to heavy humid air
Crooked trees sprout from arid earth,
Defiant in their composition—
Joshua trees are fucking ugly.
Bleach-bright billboard woman:
Is salvation out there somewhere?
Not that it matters—
There is nothing in your hollow
bones to tether faith.
Dust sinks into the gaps of your fraying braids and
pebbles lodge in the wires of your braces.
American Youth and a Great Emptiness and
wondering if you’ll ever be more
Than the rubble of fragmented narratives:
You are your father’s nose
and your mother’s smile lines.
Night sky like a noose hangs over you
Star-sharpened patterns imprint bruised skin
Knobs of your spine protest against hard earth and
Tangled hair knots through rugged terrain.
Fingers fumbling over crumbling cigarettes and
Smoke-stale breath clouding the honey-sticky sky:
Swallowing words into smoke-shredded lungs
Nails digging into palms to claw out a self,
Darkness tightens around you.
What is an American coming-of-age without going back
to the Great Emptiness and choking on the rubble?
You are, you are… you are…
you are, you are you,
you, you are, you,
you,
y o u
