Dreams of an Asphalt Queen

tumbl'ing away

2011-11-26T23:10:00.000-08:00

moving is good for the soul.

PLEASE NOTE, DEAR FOLLOWERS: The Asphalt Queen has moved to Tumblr. You've been good to us, Blogger--but now we're off and away!

holiday in a hatchback

2011-11-23T07:39:00.000-08:00

three friends, five hours, one road!

explaining a few things

2011-11-21T11:09:00.000-08:00

there's this joy in creation, ma.

addendum

2011-11-20T11:09:00.000-08:00

credo, revised: waste not. want more.

the traveling hat

2011-11-20T11:01:00.000-08:00

Joaney was moving out. She littered the living room with boxes, scarves spilling out of one, pens and paper tumbling out of another, clothing stuffed into the old fashioned trunks she kept for the day she would deliver herself to some new place. As she took down her art and maps, the walls of her windowless room exposed themselves shamefully, grubby in their nakedness, the crooked, graying gypsum board having never been dignified with a paint job. Here was a building built for moving, built for moving out. The living room grew bigger as she shuttled away her boxes and bags to other lands, their names unknown. The windows looked on, remembering their warehouse days, and the alley waited apathetically for the moment it would have to say goodbye. The weather grew colder with autumn's approaching end, and the wind howled on through the cracks in the concrete.

She left on a Thursday, for distant realms in northern climes. There was a movement to follow, a city to sack, photos to be taken and journals to be filled. She gave me a hug and I admired her lightness, and pondered my weight.

She left me a hat, a peaked little straw thing with a curled brim around the back and a brown ribbon around the crown. It sat quietly on the windowsill in that first day of Joaney's absence, patient and kind. It was an optimistic sort of hat, brave and awake, always at the ready. The afternoon faded into an early darkness, with the resigned expression of a chaotic year on its way out the door. Winter marched in through the windows and I fell into a deep sleep under a high pile of blankets as the invading cold set up camp in the apartment. I awoke not two hours later, wide eyed with rest, and wandered into the living room, where all the wintery phantoms breathed softly in their slumber with the whir of the city below, billowing softly from the nests they had built in the bricks. The room glowed with a new Spartan independence in its uncluttered state, and there sat the hat, its peaked little face tilted towards the glass pane of the window, staring serenely at the skyline.

The cold quit me in that moment, staring at the silhouette of the hat. It greeted me silently, without turning my way: Good evening, dear. Without hesitation I took up the hat, the way men grab their lovers in the last hours of the night, and I marched to my bedroom, away from the distant laughter of the jostling revelers in the street below. The hat was here now, mine for just this moment. I fingered its springy straw construction, and admired the cheeky brown grosgrain that encircled its crown, investigating its imperfect undulations around the brim.

I tossed the hat onto my bed and I stripped naked in the cold, sliding the door shut to face a full length mirror, the yellow glow backlighting my silhouette, my body having grown soft and pale in the darkness of winter. Goosebumps rippled across my skin the way fallen leaves twirl on sidewalks on suburban roads, and I felt as quiet as the moon. I stood straight, my chin up and my wits gathered, as if my train had come to meet me on the platform. The hat joined me there, perched on my head like a wise advisor from some exotic tradition. The hat gave the signal. With one last push, we stretched up and out, expanding and writhing in the mirror’s frame, and marched right into it traveling.

i am writing

2011-11-19T17:20:00.001-08:00

because there is no other way.

writing tonight

2011-11-18T17:52:00.000-08:00

like falling in love, only lonelier.

a new vessel

2011-10-28T12:29:00.000-07:00

un cahier noir, for secrets stored.

she'll decide what she wants

2011-10-20T23:11:00.001-07:00

always be the last to know.

a century of fakers

2011-08-15T20:54:00.000-07:00

what am i even faking anymore?

i want to see / my family

2011-07-15T01:02:00.001-07:00

friends, how you've warmed me so.

a blue eyed boy

2011-07-10T20:22:00.000-07:00

oh, here comes the yearning again.

an entrepreneurial endeavor

2011-06-05T01:38:00.000-07:00

there she goes, free at last!

and i

2011-05-04T12:52:00.000-07:00

seek, strive, and stride. never settle.

unadulterated

2011-04-24T01:14:00.000-07:00

let's be that wild story, babe.

alright, cue

2011-04-16T02:33:00.000-07:00

the audience doesn't get my jokes.

ok, cupid

2011-04-13T01:45:00.000-07:00

oh world, how silly i've been!

it takes one to know one, kid

2011-04-10T11:36:00.000-07:00

the mirror's so brutally honest sometimes.

low heart rate

2011-04-08T20:43:00.000-07:00

flirting is just an intellectual exercise.

clouds overhead

2011-04-06T09:35:00.000-07:00

this lovely stillness comforts me now.

forging ahead

2011-04-03T11:33:00.000-07:00

there's an elation in manic creation.

así se complican las cosas

2011-04-01T23:06:00.000-07:00

oh, how i relish the details.

the anticipation

2011-04-01T00:14:00.000-07:00

summertime, you're peeking at your presents!

improv life

2011-03-30T15:47:00.000-07:00

better things await in the eaves.

no answer

2011-03-29T23:10:00.001-07:00

something is broken between us now.

pleasant surprises

2011-03-27T12:35:00.000-07:00

euphoria on a sunday morning, alone?

setting you free

2011-03-24T19:54:00.000-07:00

"love is the child of freedom."

sunset showers

2011-03-23T19:06:00.000-07:00

i miss you very quietly now.

i'll be your friend, you just haven't made me yet

2011-03-21T20:32:00.000-07:00

do i even believe in that?

letting go

2011-03-20T16:48:00.003-07:00

nothing ever goes according to plan.

you were not born for queenin'

2011-03-18T01:03:00.000-07:00

it was a complete accident, honestly.

the king's madness

2011-03-17T00:37:00.000-07:00

i no longer have dreams of my father.

he was a king, alright. he was a wildly mad king, like a stray coyote barking down suburban streets at lunchtime, never quite satisfied with pack life. he was a king of one, and his kingdom waxed and waned with his madness. his reign was confined to the domestic realm in my little princess eyes, confined to the little asphalt paradises we lived in back then. in them, he was king of the kitchen, slicing and dicing with the swiftness of the teenage line cook he once was as a boy. and he was king of the amateur opera house, mastering his falsetto on the imaginary stage he conjured up daily while dancing briskly through the hallways of our houses. he was king of the shirtless barbecue, filling cheap paper plates with royal feasts prepared on saturday afternoons, the canyon waiting quietly below. he was king of the stately nap, his snores rumbling across the cathedral ceilings of the foyer like burros meandering across the desert—with a languid sense of purpose, by instinct. california was his dream, a place he thought he might conquer. californian summers never quite seemed to end then.

when summer gave way to fall and california gave way to massachusetts, he used to haunt my days, a crazy cursed look in his eye, pinned right to his pupils, like some indelible mark jabbed there by a force he had let take him over—some coup d’état that emerged from the inside. "et tu, geno?" it whispered in his ear. a faith had been lost. gone was the great leader of my childhood, replaced with a broken boy-king, unfit for ruling anything.

a charmed life

2011-03-17T00:06:00.000-07:00

life seems so dreadfully long sometimes.

bus stops and cherry blossoms

2011-03-11T20:54:00.001-08:00

what would spring be without flowers?

sun and rain and everything in between

2011-03-10T20:15:00.000-08:00

it's time to do some growing.

a rhetorical question

2011-03-10T01:28:00.000-08:00

i really fucking miss you, okay?

i got some troubles but they won't last

2011-03-09T07:37:00.000-08:00

today ain't that bad so far.

if he burns you, let him go

2011-03-08T01:23:00.000-08:00

i've been burnt with cold words.

change is hard

2011-03-06T18:26:00.001-08:00

you are everywhere, and nowhere too.

crying in kitchens

2011-03-02T22:08:00.000-08:00

all those tissues, wasted on you.

no one is ever going to fill that space

2011-03-01T22:22:00.001-08:00

distance is the real human condition.

swimming on sundays

2011-02-27T10:34:00.000-08:00

sunday mornings, like water for fishes.

last night's terrors

2011-01-16T22:33:00.000-08:00

now you've seen the monsters inside.

las obras de una vida perdida

2011-01-09T15:09:00.000-08:00

te quiero porque el silencio de esta casa me podría matar. querer, amar--solo queremos algo cuando aparece un hoyo en la tela de nuestras vidas. y como una mujer respetable y sola, de repente sin dinero ni hogar, con hoyos en los vestidos sucios de ayer, pienso en los días de una riqueza pasada.

siempre he odiado los domingos solitarios. el domingo siempre fue el día de dios, y de mi papá, dos seres que escogieron otros caminos, con destinos muy lejos de acá. pero los veo en lugares extraños, como niños perdidos en los cartones de leche. "has visto este hombre?" como un comercial en la tele aparece una cara vieja, arrugada. a veces no puedo recordar sus nombres. a veces no puedo recordar el sonido de sus zapatos en la sala repiqueteando contra la madera de los suelos de la casa, después de regresar de la oficina. a veces olvido que un hombre tan brillante y egoísta me amaba.

dicen que ya no hay nadie que crea en el amor. tenemos un millón de fronteras, pero hemos cogido a todos los bosques, y los dejamos sin las sonrisas de niños. un bosque virgen...imagínate el silencio. esta casa pudre con el silencio de una puta cansada. los silencios dicen más que todas las palabras que me murmurabas. obra sin fin, y no tengo el guión. si la vida fuera como el cine que adoras tanto, te tendría atrapado teneramente en las manos, y sería el fin de estos pinches silencios.

tener es acabar con el amor de lo tenido. y siempre pensamos en el fin antes de que empiece la obra.

sin fin de las preguntas

2011-01-09T15:06:00.000-08:00

conocerte? hablarte? amarte? que tontería, hombre.

l'artiste dit

2010-12-05T20:43:00.000-08:00

creation's by the goddesses amongst us.

sueños de nuestros padres

2010-11-24T23:45:00.000-08:00

you could have been here, dad.

all we need

2010-11-19T01:12:00.000-08:00

four walls, and a blanket, maybe.

oh hey, baby

2010-11-14T21:22:00.001-08:00

los angeles has me writing again.

volando vengo, volando voy

2010-07-29T17:18:00.000-07:00

la que vuela, la que triunfa.

boys and girls in america

2010-07-11T12:31:00.000-07:00

vast continent, i have ravaged you.

sleep, queen

2010-07-06T09:59:00.000-07:00

i've been seeking only wordless dreams.

a good woman will rip you apart

2010-06-29T15:49:00.000-07:00

honey, you're so broken up already.

sex as a weapon

2010-06-28T19:59:00.000-07:00

go fuck yourself. i certainly won't.

dreams and money

2010-06-25T10:43:00.001-07:00

as incompatible as heads and hearts.

méxico, a sad romance

2010-06-23T11:53:00.000-07:00

fidelity's high on some other poison.

hey dad

2010-06-20T09:35:00.000-07:00

you taught me this vanishing act.

i thought i saw your face today

2010-06-18T16:16:00.001-07:00

why must the living haunt me?

somedays aren't yours at all

2010-06-15T19:54:00.000-07:00

long, cold nights; short hot bursts.

he's up and gone (again)

2010-06-12T12:06:00.000-07:00

and we part, for other shores.

the lentil and potato diet

2010-06-09T11:44:00.000-07:00

at least our poverty's still funny.

[june] answered, "i don't want worship. i want understanding."

2010-06-06T13:03:00.000-07:00

i want feeling. i want danger.

my canal street boys

2010-05-31T18:50:00.000-07:00

you're cheaply cute, and drunkenly disposable.

la maldición mexicana

2010-05-25T12:33:00.000-07:00

méxico: a curse and a blessing.

dirty hippie depa livin'

2010-05-23T13:32:00.000-07:00

best existential crisis of my life.

goodbye, little house on río cazones

2010-05-14T10:13:00.000-07:00

i spent days here lazily, listlessly.

there is something wrong with me

2010-05-12T11:12:00.001-07:00

words, like all my lovers: inadequate.

the need to destroy things creeps up on me every time

2010-05-10T10:38:00.000-07:00

every silent movement reeks of uselessness.

return with the tide

2010-05-08T08:44:00.000-07:00

make me feel beautiful again, love.

may fools

2010-05-06T22:10:00.000-07:00

spring just hit its midlife crisis.

another alcoholic down the drain

2010-05-02T10:41:00.000-07:00

you can't give me enough, kid.

FREE! plus shipping and handling

2010-04-27T16:34:00.000-07:00

"start your own nervous breakdown today!"

my morning routine

2010-04-26T08:08:00.001-07:00

time for my daily existential crisis!

sunday the twenty fifth: on my way

2010-04-26T08:02:00.000-07:00

finally back home. (approximately, that is.)

saturday the twenty fourth: boogeying at bruno's

2010-04-26T07:58:00.000-07:00

fine food will cure most maladies.

friday the twenty third: biography of a mummy

2010-04-26T07:57:00.000-07:00

he was granted his immortality posthumously.

thursday the twenty second: an evening with la diabla

2010-04-25T18:54:00.000-07:00

three gringas walk into a bar.

gone daydreaming

2010-04-21T21:49:00.000-07:00

rafting away on my asphalt sea...

"...passion, enmity, worship, love..."

2010-04-20T19:23:00.000-07:00

well, friendship's off the bargaining table.

a working girl's bedtime prayers

2010-04-19T21:06:00.000-07:00

salvation from exhaustion's all that's devine.

bye bye, love

2010-04-18T17:53:00.001-07:00

california cradles my memories, little vagabonds.

lucid living

2010-04-17T21:22:00.000-07:00

i'm floundering through my waking hours.

the asphalt queen fears tonight's dream

2010-04-16T01:11:00.000-07:00

what now, king of my unconscious?

old flames

2010-04-15T01:38:00.000-07:00

juan, don't go poking that fire.

it's always sunny in los angeles

2010-04-13T22:25:00.001-07:00

sunny with a chance of lunacy.

little man talk

2010-04-13T00:41:00.000-07:00

your flaccid arguments don't excite me.

eleven four ten: in conclusion

2010-04-12T19:07:00.001-07:00

gay dads weekend: a rousing success.

ten four ten: camp robert's only rule

2010-04-12T18:51:00.000-07:00

never run out of red wine!

the blurry edges of memory

2010-04-10T10:35:00.000-07:00

you reside in my imagination now.

nine four ten: just fabulous

2010-04-10T02:20:00.000-07:00

our convertible dreams, swift and sweet.

eight four ten: grocery store mission

2010-04-10T02:19:00.000-07:00

undercover american, amongst her own kind.

seven four ten: spanglish sounds

2010-04-10T02:17:00.000-07:00

words i won't say, for embarrassment.

six four ten: the arrival

2010-04-10T02:16:00.001-07:00

los angeles, what a strange reunion.

summertime airs

2010-04-04T22:06:00.000-07:00

sun kissed, moon lit, starry eyed.

sueño norteño

2010-04-03T20:30:00.001-07:00

we still haven't run outta wilderness.

el pueblo trágico

2010-04-03T20:29:00.002-07:00

your magic zapped away long ago.

jack kerouac's malecón

2010-04-03T20:29:00.001-07:00

take me to the mad ones.

banda, baby

2010-04-03T20:27:00.000-07:00

sinaloa's a circus, i another monkey.

una ballena de pacífico

2010-03-30T15:45:00.000-07:00

the only whale that won't float.

boarded a train bound / for my destination brain

2010-03-28T17:11:00.000-07:00

the road's been my only home.