Down to earth
I am but of dust
Dust particles
I see floating in the air
Carbon molecules

A fresh faced country girl
Who pioneers on her bicycle
Catches the eye
Of a transplant from Houston
Love begins through letters

It’s not pretty
When I cry
People get almost
as embarrassed
as I

When I think of my mom
I think of malt o meal muffins
When I think of my dad
Memories of a child
Chasing us around the circle

No pido disculpas
Por escribir
Lo que siento
Lo que llevo adentro
Lo que vivo

Filler words
Put me to sleep
Added to cushion
Take away my pillow
Blunt words to wake up

To be a true artist
Must they be recluses
Crazy mad or sick
Or even better dead
Show me a healthy artist

My body is perfect
—ly spotted
The white spots
I tell myself
Are my Bambi spots

I’m watching a woman in a bikini
In great shape with a swollen bell
Play with her puppy named Gatsby
A Hispanic family comes
The little girl dips her feet in

Antes lograba tanto
Metía horas
Sacando lo máximo
De cada minuto
No he cambiado