how is it 8pm already?

a poem in progress

how is it 8pm already?
(or as my mom would say,
ya es mañana) - for Jeanette 

i tried to pick my favorite song that 
you recommended 
and failed.

i time traveled back to 
our teenaged selves ditching class
to explore the music section 
at barnes & noble.

Radiohead has no bad album

you commanded,
with your soft yet firm tone.

this memory,
this vision,
must be a sign.

naturally, the search began here.

a song from Ok Computer
exudes predictability, 
but something from In Rainbows 
might be that girl.

did u like Frank Ocean?
I think we grew apart as he came out,
and now str8 guys ride his dick
harder than the geis.

i moved on to Carla Morrison
but that didn’t work out,
your coffin came to mind

and how after Columbine
a boy from class 
held a secret show & tell 
during recess.

cradled in his 9 year old palm,
a bullet from his dad's collection
shiny and minuscule.

so much has changed since then,
and yet so much has remained the same.

Björk continues to reign supreme, 
and maybe Hyperballad is the song
i've been searching for.

but as soon as 
the chorus hits
the tears flow free
and i return to square one.

...