CROWN SONNET IN WHICH THE SPEAKER MOVES TO L.A.

After Kelly Lorraine Andrews


I watch Jennifer’s Body at Holly-

wood Forever Cemetery, where I

do a key bump in the porta-potty,

and a cosplay goth girl reads my Tarot.

We drink and smoke on top of dead people.

This time last year I was there with my ex,

it was Día de los Muertos. Expensive

appropriation of my culture, but

really, I wanted to be Aubrey

Plaza, in Father John Misty’s music

video that alludes to fucking on

famous headstones. And a crazy ex

which I now embody. Since you dumped me

for a trashy, young TikTok influencer.

~

Trashy TikTok influencer: a brunette,

an L.A. 3, but former Pittsburgh 9. Which

is also now true for you. I wonder

if she goes to sound baths, or likes mezcal.

Hope you're having fun with your rebound—

I’m having a blast. Vaping, kissing girls

at the club on New Year’s Eve. Hiking to

the Hollywood Sign. Dancing at The Short

Stop until close. Street tacos, ketamine,

brunch with my best friend. A spiritual

healer from Nashville. We drink oat matcha,

do Reiki in Echo Park. Walk home drunk

holding hands, just high as fuck. Vibing off

the jacaranda trees that smell like cum.

~

The jacaranda trees that smell like cum,

in the warm June breeze. It’s Pride Month, and I

am walking down Sunset, vegan ice cream

dripping down my chin. A random Hinge girl

wants my birth chart: Aries Aries Cancer.

I don't text her back. I’m emotional

after the paintball hit-and-run last night—

pink plastic paint hit my neck, chest. Fucking

asshole kids cackling, aiming at queens

coming out of Akbar. Helicopters

searching: woman with knife on foot, I love

this neighborhood. The bodega, oyster

spot, where the sommelier gives us free wine.

The Scientology sign ominously

~

staring me down. Scientology guard dogs

surveil my street at midnight, when I go

out for a smoke. While I wait for Uber,

Grubhub. The girl I just met on my b-day.

She washes her hands before sex. Says this

is 38. Says parking is hard here,

isn't it? Sorry I’m late. Also, traffic

is a bitch this time of the day. Her kinks

include choking, biting, shibari rope,

but she forgot the strap-on in her car.

Her dog watches us fumble, while my cat

yawns and stretches across my kitchen floor.

She doesn't comment on my body, or have

belly button lint. Doesn't open my fridge,

~

like the men, with belly button lint, that

open my fridge. Looking for beer. Trulys,

something to eat. Making themselves at home.

Amateur photographer, Aztec tatts.

Says damn, my tits are huge. Buys my Lyft

to Pasadena. A mediocre quickie,

I already know I won’t come. At least

he's not a DJ, barback, or a comedian.

No musicians, no actors, no writer/

directors. Swiping left on Tinder like,

I've already seen this movie before.

A barista astrologist says let’s

microdose ayahuasca in Peru. Let’s

bike up The Pacific Coast Highway.

~

Biking PCH already a cold memory;

that first year I was here, living with you

and your boys on Normandie Ave. We'd bike

 to The Greek, or The Bowl, or Zebulon.

Where we argued once, right before I left.

You got drunk. I ugly-cried in public

again. But it’s okay. It’s not that deep.

I've done the shadow work. BetterHelp each

week. I’m still pretty new, 3 years next May.

My own place. Serving gig, at a goddamn

restaurant again. I haven't seen the

ocean in months. But I recognized Kim

Gordon on Hillhurst, which affirmed my crush

on another guitarist: She’s on tour,

~

playing guitar internationally,

for thousands of people, you could never—

She’s a chaotic sapiosexual. We met

a week ago, at a garden party.

Through a designer friend, who’s hung up on

a straight guy who lives with his ex-girlfriend

still. We go to after parties. Venmo

for drugs. Wait in bathroom lines together,

take selfies in the stall. No shame peeing

in front of each other. Or fucking on

the 2nd night. Non-binary triple Virgo.

Such a vibe. We’re going to collab.

She likes my poetry. I like detaching

the artist from the art. Everything is

~

everything, Lauryn Hill sang once. After

drought, must come flood. After love bombing me,

she ghosted. Prob back at her ex’s sublease.

NBD, I’m with a biker babe at

the Keith Haring exhibit. Trippin’ on

psilocybin on a Thursday downtown.

Neon canvas pulsing manic pop art.

I call her my art daddy, we make out

in front of The Radiant Baby. We

turn heads more than the phallic totem poles.

Capitalize on reckless abandon,

afternoon delight, queer karaoke.

We make it rain ones at Jumbo’s Clown Room.

 The girls love our energy, but wink at

~

the men that give back tired-ass energy.

We go home, do titty bumps, listen to

Sade. Millie’s diner for breakfast. I look

around, in case my ex or Eric Andre

walk by. I’m nonplussed by polyamory,

but breaking patterns is my new mantra.

It’s cool, I regulate my attachment

style. Everyone is devastatingly

gorgeous. Girls in Carhartts, short kings strutting

Dickies. I’m pan, and fluid, and dig on

gender-affirming haircuts, but have

body dysmorphia and an autoimmune

disorder. Imposter syndrome to boot.

These feelings are valid, on my Insta–

~

gram story. Where I measure my valid-

ity, and self-worth with likes. Where I post

cringe, passive-aggressive memes. Hoping

my other crush will see the real me.

She’s a chef at the new queer bar. Edgy,

Shane from The L Word looks. I took this other

femme there once, sat at the bar, ordered fries.

She was married though—to a man. Just my

type: monogamous, blue eyes, freckles. Cute

AF. Made sure unrequited crush babe saw

us, from the swinging kitchen door. Sitting

real close. Her hand, my leg. Physical

touch, my love language. Because I don't know

if I’m real, if I’m not being touched.

~

I don't know if I’m real, if I’m not

being touched. Fuck being embodied. Fuck

a revenge body. Fuck a beach body.

This body, that betrays me. Fuck this IUD.

Fuck my bleached green hair, that falls out daily.

Fuck you, for not picking me up from LAX,

when I got back from Mexico last year.

When you said let’s take a break, let’s give up.

Let's roll the credits on this shitshow. Cut

this scene out of the B-movie of our lives.

And yes, I binge-watched it all fade away.

Remember when I showed up to your gig

with a random stuntman I had just met

on Abbot Kinney? Hell yes. I’m petty

~

like that. Petty, toxic, and I looked hot

that night. Remember how it rained for six

months after that? How when I moved out I

scratched my name on to your teal KitchenAid

I had bought you for Christmas? So every

time cream cheese mixes with eggs and sugar

the taste of rancor in your throat will be—

me. And I'll be laying here naked, sex-

ting someone else completely in Texas,

or Louisiana, or Pennsylvania. Through

car alarms, past the withdrawing junkie

sheltering at the corner ministry.

Transmitting electric pulse over the 101,

Dodger Stadium in the rearview, northbound.

~

Dodger Stadium: icon of stolen land,

Mexican-American families

displaced. History of acquisition.

But let’s all celebrate the lowriders,

give 5-star reviews to elevated

taco vendors, curated for gringo

palettes. I've never liked Sriracha,

so I guess I'll be single forever.

I take a long drag off my neighbor’s spliff.

We trauma bond, divulge our long distance

situationships that got us both cunt-struck.

Dude’s dark sunglasses make me look only

at his yellow teeth. I’m spitting vitriol

about love, work, and politics again.

~

Again, love. Again, work. Again. Begin,

again. Let’s make love like we've never known

violence, preaches Sandra Cisneros,

 from her San Miguel de Allende estate—

while I’m ashing butts in sadly lit rooms.

And scene, someone says loudly. Moonlighting

as a PA. By scene I mean, Coachella.

By sadly, I mean ancestral trauma.

Which is to say, can't wait for Burning Man.

I've never been. Bitch, I’m cosmically

thriving. Like these palm trees, these succulents,

these prickly pears. I’m ready for my big—

break, down. Because damn, I’m truly broke.

No joke, here’s the QR code to my OnlyFans.

~

Here’s the QR code to my OnlyFans. Perfect

feet pics for my old foot fetish flame from

San Diego. Romantic surfer, drinks skin

contact wine. Lana Del Rey on vinyl.

Say less. I'll edit the malaprops in post.

I watch the self-tape where I implicate

myself in these lines. AirDrop my whole block

a link to the flier for my performance:

It’s today. Right now, and now. And now. And,

when, you think, is the next time I'll get laid?

I ask the corner psychic. She says my

aura is purple. That I should just man-

ifest abundance, honey. That I should

HOWL holy holy holy with my whole

body. Watch Hollywood from my window.

Karla Lamb

Karla Lamb (she/ella) is a queer Xicana poet born in Mexico City, with work appearing in Hooligan Mag, Fruitslice, Tilted House, Cobra Milk, Rejected Lit, A Women’s Thing Magazine, YES Poetry, Coal Hill Review, Fine Print Press, Word Riot, Pittsburgh Poetry Journal, & elsewhere. Her work has been twice nominated for Best of the Net & translated in Revista La Peste. She hosts Verse4Verse, winner of Sapphic.LA’s Best Open Mic 2024, a monthly sapphic & queer-expansive poetry open mic in East Los Angeles. More info at @vinylowl.

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