(2005)

ah'll be headin' t' kandahar

                    from samar-
kand, a few bribes paid
plane full o' russian-made AKs
embedded or free, we got tickets t' th' war
spoon-fed stories, broadcastin' live
avoid th' truth, if ya wanna survive
there's a beheadin' t'day, so ah'll be headin' t' kandahar

                    bought fake
photos in uzbekistan
illegal checkpoint, some warlord's clan
a laptop link up with a satellite phone
got this kid Azir, gonna translate
a decommissioned humvee t' crash thru gates
an hour t' type when th' power comes back on

                    finally
slept in a bed las' night
no camels t' smoke, jus' camels t' ride
reported th' death o' pashtuns at a disco bar
ah was stringin' fo' th' times, now ah write true
a socialist paper out o' peru
there's a beheadin' t'day, so ah'll be headin' t' kandahar

                    met a PhD
in a burqa shroud
while a firebrand cleric riled up a crowd
got photos o' bodies piled up by a mosque
red crescent van, spraypainted black
two saudis drivin', ah ride in back
wherever we're goin' ah sure ain't gonna ask

                    where modern
life is a disease
where scimitars meet DVDs
an' jazeera's feed it feeds straight inta ours
ancient scriptures, posted on websites
a schedule when t' pray, an' bomb-makin' guides
there's a beheadin' t'day, so ah'll be headin' t' kandahar

in kandahar
life's brutish an' short
but ah got no news t' report
'cuz ah'm sittin' alone inside a hotel bar
one thing ain't gonna change
they'll run rumors on th' front page

                    postmodern
colonial neo-cons
smirk an' say bring it on
as desperate men preten' chaos is holy war
an' answer rumsfeld's occupation
wi' some reporter's decapitation
there's a beheadin' t'day, so ah'll be headin' t' kandahar

jaguar girl

listen up, 'cuz
ah gotta tell anyway
this chica at th' bus
stop on guadalupe
jaguar girl ah call her
accordion, damn she can play
yes'm, that's jaguar girl

is it love at first sight
for that gata, ah got ganas
could ah be prince charmin' t'
this princess chicana
no, jus' lak fairy tales
ah'm jus' th' ugly rana
yes'm, that's jaguar girl

not really a jaguar
no, she ain't so vicious
but feline eyes of fire
a smile, puro delicious
i offer up two besos
in return for her kisses
yes'm, that's jaguar girl

las jaguaras don't wait
for ranas like me
her squeezebox is full
o' songs t' set free
buskin' muy tarde not
even stoppin' t' breathe
yes'm, that's jaguar girl

so we each leave alone
she boards th' five twen'y
got strong principles, but
can't trus' nobody
she sings "ni modo, that's life
for a jaguar like me"
yes'm, that's jaguar girl

jaguars go alone
an' frogs don't get out
but b'fore long she'll
transfer mah route
she'll purr a cancion
ah'll leap up an' shout
ah'm sweet on that jaguar girl 

(2004)

foundations of bicultural theory

so i'm workin on this paper for this class
called "foundations of bicultural theory"
deconstructin' our immigrant past, an'
analyzin' the present policy.
an' literalmente a knock on my door
when it's almost eleven fifteen -
a family of migrant workers are here
bien cansados, an' not real clean.
'i knew a man, his name Aguilar"
says the father in beginner english.
"he lived down this street, pero ya no 'sta,"
an' this man's too ashamed to finish.
so the mother says "porfa, we have no place
to sleep 'til morning can come,
an' we'll get no pay 'til working a day
tomorrow at setting of the sun."
"so please, sen~or," the father's voice breaks
"we don' wanna cause problemas.
saint cecilia church gave us food cans -
we just need some place to stay us."
i gulp and confront eye to mero eye
th' abstractions i study in books.
"'s que no puedo, i won't give a place to sleep,"
but from my wallet, i give ten bucks.

an' i don' know who's truth they're sellin'.
i don' know who's a victom or foe.
but those eyes ain't founded on theory -
those eyes are a ser humano.
no decido "verdad" ni "mentira."
no resuelvo hambre mundial.
pero estos ojos son testigos que
no human being is ilegal.

Whiskey-Head Alvester

great great uncle Alvester
to th' bottle he would go
every chance he got
an then a few times mo'
drinkin' from 'is still
Aunt Ada lost her mind
in th' Greenville infirmary 'til
'ventually she died

so Al lef' carolina
an it's foothills so pretty
moved in with th' Howards
outside Ocala city
at "th' ol' place" they stayed
in florida's pineywood
ol' man Allen near burned it down
usin' shingles as firewood

hidden in a sinkhole
distillin' drinkin' corn
frontporch, jug in hand, sat
Alvester ever' morn'
the Howard's daughter Maggie
pretty girl wi' curly hair
in th' pines dwelt she
'neath Al's drunken stare

up North at Kenly station
to mah gran'ma an aunt Ruby
young Avery bid farewell
his uncle Al for to see
come midnight he mounted
dozed on a plank of pine
changed trains in savannah
his dyin' morn' was nigh

Avery reached Ocala
in a wagon bed he rode
to th' ol' place he came
what a party to behold
his cousins Buck an' Velma
some o' th' Howards' kin
Alvester's bootleg whiskey
some women an' some gin

Avery saw young Maggie
shuckin' on th' porch
her curls all down her back
eyes firey like a torch
Alvester saw young Avery
gazin' Maggie's way
uncle Al was full o' liquor
his heart was full o' hate

so inside Alvester came
jus' to get 'is gun
that thirty-eight he aimed
there in th' mornin' sun
from fear Avery froze
one girl let out a yell
one dove through th' window
the men all ran an' fell

Alvester opened fire
into his nephew's breast
Avery clawed the air
coughed an' fell t' rest
Al took up a jug
in th' sunshine he lay
'fore th' sheriff even come
he drank it dry as hay

th' marion county judge
when th' conviction came
gave 'im life in prison
Alvester showed no shame
i can't say if he made
moonshine in his cell
but i' bet a fith o' whiskey
no moon shines in hell

(2003)

if jesus was real

the good book tells me ah gotta have faith in it's
good and bad parts, jus' th' same. even
saul called it lies 'til god scaled up his eyes an'
said t' go preach in his name. well, when
jesus was here, no one needed faith. he tossed
miracles left and right. he'd
walk on some water, turn it to wine, finish
up givin' the blinded sight.

if Jesus was real he would heal all me pain. if
Jesus was real. if
Jesus was real he would heal all me pain, but he
don't. that's how come i know that he ain't.

ain't no miracles now, an' saints are a hoax. ah'm
s'posed t' believe some book is divine. well, ah
don't believe ever'thing ah read. as fer th'
bible, ah ain't got the time. ah
try not t' sin an' ah try not to lie, ah
do unto others as ah ought to. His broken
body ah ate, but mah body's pain keeps
mah spirit broken in two.

if Jesus was real he would heal all me pain. if
Jesus was real. if
Jesus was real he would heal all me pain, but he
don't. that's how come i know that he ain't.

Jesus, he bled so that we might live, but ah
writhe when ah bleed inside. an'
laz'rus was raised up from the grave, but
now ah jis' wanna fall down an' die. ah'm
sapped of all strength, prostrate on mah bed
prayin' he ain't jus' made up. while
prayin' to trust in his holiness, all ah
get's a sharp pain in mah gut.

if Jesus was real he would heal all me pain. if
Jesus was real. if
Jesus was real he would heal all me pain, but he
don't. that's how come i know that he ain't.

he was nailed to a tree, an' stabbed in the side an'
heckled and tortured to death. that
part ah believe, cuz trouble is real. th' resur-
rection, it mus' be a myth. cuz they
say even Jesus, while hangin' up there,
axt why he'd been forsaken. if
even the redeemer ain't a believer, ah
believe my faith to be shaken.

if Jesus was real he would heal all me pain. if
Jesus was real. if
Jesus was real he would heal all me pain, but he
don't. that's how come i know that he ain't.

my insides are ravaged, raw like a leper. too
hurt t' think, too sad t' feel. when ah
start t' die, perhaps that's when ah will
believe that "my savior" is real.

(2002)

las tortugas saben

playa maruata
es barata.
no hay ban~os ni camas.
si' nadaras
y pescaras,
pero no te clamas.
sol tan fuerte.
ay que suerte!
una chela tomas.
a las tres
te levantes.
vamos en pijamas,
con lampara
y camara.
alla, unas caguamas!
ya deshuevan
y regresan.
tortuga, como te llamas?

(2001)

plans

we all run out of plans
at a certain point ya jus'
take care o' what ya can
an' don' think about th' rest
fer now jus' hol' my hand
an' say ever'thing's alright
yeah, ah gotta face the truth
but it don' gotta be tonight

chased ya when ah wanted
like a dog chasin' its tail
while takin' you fer granted
't's hard tellin' when t' bail
but it's simple afterwards
sayin' "here's where ah went wrong"
't's simple as th' words
ah'm passin' off as a song

ah got out of a rut
jus' t' dig a deeper one
spreadin soreness in mah gut
fer th' things ah never done
but havin' an adventure
ain't gonna change mah brain
nobody owned the future
still, our futures weren't the same

convinced ya to believe
in things ah never done
like takin' initiative
an' fightin' fer "the one"
ah never really tried
to see yer point o' view
don' know why ah still lied
long after we were through

mah col' col' heart is pumpin'
ice into mah words
as ah've stayed in columbus
ah've only gotten worse
ah let ya make a home
when ah jus' wanted a roof
ya di'n't think ah'd roam
but ah'm too scared not t' move

we musta come real close
but ah jus' don't care enough
'f ya wanna yes or no
ya know ah ain't good at that stuff
ya don' wanna hold mah hand
well, ah giss that's alright
an' if ya wanna hear th' truth then
ah'm leavin' town tonight
'f ya only want th' truth then
ah'm leavin' town tonight

(1997)

/untitled/ 
and i see you lying
to me,
beside me-
flesh so innocuous innate
-
i can't stop touching,
tearing-
i can't stop the chaffed
-
and i lick the icing
duly,
deny me-
sweet so persuasive debase
-
it can't stop biting,
daring-
it can't stop the taste
-
and i paint you hiding
hole me,
engorge me-
plans so awaken and wastes
-
i can't stop storing,
strafing-
i can't stop the hate

(1997)

/untitled/

my eyebrows are drawn on
plucked out penciled in
the originals you see
weren't up to standard
up to snuff up to par
just jagged and crooked
not like me at all
so frightening and all
so i pluck out my eye
brows or everything dies
my tweezers and make-up
to make me and tweeze me
and make you to please me
so say you don't want it
i'll swallow your lives
not deep or completed
just cheap and defeated
my eyebrows are drawn on
plucked out penciled in
my eyebrows are drawn on
plucked out penciled in

high-tension wires

   

marching monsters large hard erect structures surging across indiana
	home of adolescence and obsolescence faster for
	furnace, microwave, vibrator
coming inside households your household your head under water
	generated power cleaning ideas, idols, malls
phone call the operator his operation oprah, opal, zirconium
guar gum for cassius cassidy circuitry integrated bussing cold water
	fountains dripping inhumanity and irridescence
	electrolyte, cellulite, bunkers
of south indiana

/untitled/ 

sangria, blood pudding
sophia, my slippers
stop all this would-ing
topple my whispers

(1995)

/untitled/

fringe

so i sit with my simples-
they keep me such fine company!
(oh yes they do)
and when i'm sad, it's all i need
to be someone else, to steal their
life and clothes and wife and nose;
for such a fine hour i will be then!
(oh yes i will)
and there is nothing can be as fine
as yours when it's mine!

fur is dead and so is this

 i wear fake fur because
i want the panache, the savoir faire,
the folie des grandeurs and other french things
of a murderer of a mink
but without the guilt or blood or guts
so look at my coat
look at my me
i’m as smooth as a real dead mink

breadhead 11 servings a day

i'd go out of my head
if i could finds the exit.
there's safety in bread,
until mold affects it.
but yeast is a virus -
and not even dead!
our wishes, impious,
rise up and be said.
our wishes are leaving
old moldy papyrus
(no scribbled smudging).
foil packets defy us!
do seatbelts get frayed?
my loaf is seen sinking.
this thought i've betrayed
is just my mold thinking.

(1994)

/untitled/ 

those alabaster cities gleem
as white as wide as white can be
under a glimpse gander a fog
a grasp a pimp's enduring song
to tease and please me often says
the rest turret's depressing bread
awake ye singers rise and fries
and mayo plato hypnotize
the marmalade has ears and fucks
the centrifuge the grapes the thugs
don't try don't twist again go fish
a hollowed try me wassled wish
vicar my czar cascades of darn
analyze not including harm
wade to one clam damn to bake
mauve a vision ours to make

stucco 

we got a winner ma
golgotha sinner's law
my edge is top
my wedges stop
at every que sera
eat bruce jenner man
he bruised in her can
demure fetus
buy more fearless
kindly dark again

 

© Copyright 1994-2005, Kip A. Hinton. All rights reserved. May not be copied, printed, transcribed, republished, mutilated, baked in a pie, or killed in a freak accident (picnic, lightning) without the expressed, written consent of Kip A. Hinton and A. Bartlett Giamatti.