Tommy Pico
from Junk
So what if I doggy-paddled into the ocean to crap Whales shit
in the ocean all the time You bob around my brain n it brings a
rush of warmth like a stiff drink Settles over my rocky butte
Something universal, like a neon pink sweatshirt A tabby-fat
heart God I can’t believe I’m actually going to write this: Hi I
like myself It’s taken me 7 generations 2 dig my Junk situation
It’s how I’m seen, felt, and fought The American imposition
that rumbles my coffee break From the window, brickish bean-
stalks grow tall and fat Only a blind society would build luxury
rooms not even the lights will live in, while so so many sleep in
slumps surrounded by all their junk What is the material
significance of an empty luxury apartment Potential over
utility American “Freedom” is such historical propaganda Our
lives remind American exceptionalism that theft, slavery,
and genocide are its founding institutions Buy me a donut &
take me to a museum Reach for my hand or the spot on my
neck when it rained and we ran the ten sloppy blocks back to
my place—Babe, bring me a cool bowl of sherbet when I get
high The base forming rings on the top of my jeans my Brow
forming beads on yr shoulder America is like, but I’m a good
person Never the body of it’s atrocities Who built the railroads
Who picks the crops Who delivers yr egg bagel on a rainy day
Our tower is missing bricks Fingers to lips it’s a wonder we
make anything I’m sorry but I hate musicals so gd much Not
every revelation deserves a stanza, dummy Under appreciated
patience Straight dudes painting their nails Asking of a main
character, is this a normal person in extraordinary circum-
stances, or an extraordinary person Can u b ambitious w/o
being anxious I’m in the moment I’m in the moment I’m in the
moment A metal chair screeching on concrete Faggotland is
extra is digital these days A sim city Pixels of torsos, shoulders,
or the Williamsburg bridge Gruff couple words (hot, looking?)
Then a pin drop Do you really expect me, sight unseen, to come
over to yr murder apt Buzz up like takeout n ask “Who ordered
the ass?” I’m a tenant of suspicion Thumbing into plastic
wrapped grocery store ground beef Let him go like the bright
yellow socks w/blue toes auntie sent last winter, dummy I’m
supes porous to other’s moods modes & furies More armored
in the new years But growin up on a rez gripped by meth you
never know what sets a person off Threat flows thru my valley
I used to hide in there like my ancestors when the Spanish came
There’s 2 much world Still I try to see it Look, I’ll compromise:
I won’t get the cookie dough bites and beloved chili cheese corn
snack But I’m getting the banana chips, dried mango and cacao
nibs Bakers chocolate sucks Anything coffee flavored that isn’t
coffee makes me sick Most ppl can sit in their bodies w/o movin
all the time Baffling I’ve snail-trailed all over this All my friends
are BOTS—Babes of the Struggle The mind is so much fire and
bull Get some marshmallows How do we protect ourselves
from car commercials and boarder patrol Mom and Amber
hands behind their heads face down on the asphalt at the check-
point There is something sick abt accusing an NDN of bein an
illegal immigrant And something sick about the phrase “border
patrol” and “illegal immigrant” I mean white ppl where was yr
passport when the sun never set Seeing as how borders are
erected in part to pen in the poor Plenty money jumps over
under in & out borders as a matter of course Touching all yr
Junk hides it from obscurity The lack is where it’s at Not want-
ing to feel absence This is my heroic, sweeping sentiment This
is my blue love The pinch of sun floating thru the blackout
curtains in the old apt on south 8th in a sharp disbelief our 2
rivers met downstream A mirror fell the day I discovered I was
living my future n for the first time in my adult life experienced
a moment of happiness arm in arm w/security All my little faces
are smiling Life, I look forward to living you completely, w/all
my shattered selves All divisions of reflection All the ppl who
ppl like us are required 2b Touch is the first step of discarding
Some things, seen simply, simply need to leave A niche ecology
Large, breaking, beautiful time This gallery owner hits on me
by telling me he’s a gallery owner He spent all day in his gallery
I say Lucky gallery having you shoved inside it all day with a
straight face like a common thot A Land Before Shame Some-
times it’s a “call is coming from inside the house” situation and
That Ho Over There is really The Ho Within I still have a few
skies left to rise toward A few other giant Earths to unearth In
her book Kondo suggests going thru yr Junk one item at a time,
holding the various its and asking does this spark joy The point
is the Little Mermaid made me a packrat The whittling process
A training program in settling back into yr miracle What
remains criminally un-let-go-of Don’t worry abt Junk It literally
doesn’t worry abt you It can’t Excuse me? I was here on the first
date I am the pin slid thru the boutonniere I am the b&w strip of
photo booth first kiss I am the small stuffed leopard you held all
the way thru the Natural History museum Your time wd mean
nothing without me Living on an imagined construct over the
course of these pages I can understand how someone could
sustain faith in something (divinity) that literally doesn’t exist
And how less real is this I am the polaroid of the b&w tiled bath-
room floor just before you pulled his pants down at the album
release party I am the pack of matches from the third date first
fuck when u thot Trophy Bar, remember this I am the pumpkin
tote bag you won together at trivia night, after the tie-breaking
walk-off to Upgrade U by Beyoncé I am I am I am Let’s blow this
popsicle stand The popsicle stand leans its head back and sighs
Tommy “Teebs” Pico is a poet from the Viejas Indian reservation of the Kumeyaay nation. He authored the books IRL, winner of the 2017 Brooklyn Public Library’s Literary Prize, Nature Poem, and Junk. He is co-curator of the reading series Poets With Attitude (PWA) with Morgan Parker, and co-host of the podcast Food 4 Thot. His Myers-Briggs is IDGAF.