My Favorite Drink
is Irish Whiskey when I’m rock ‘n’fuckin’ roll Guns ‘n’ fuckin’ Roses.
Mötley fuckin’ Crüe when I wonder
what would Sixx do black denim sex
fuck-me-on-the-back-of-a-bike-boots
won’t dance with a guy if he doesn’t
have a hundred tattoos fall on my face in
the flowerbed impale my hand on a dead
chrysanthemum curse strip stomp trollop
employ a won’t-feel-that-till-morningphilosophy
when I’m out to be the next
Lunch in a two bar town when I go out
of my way to find sleaze and shame and
a decent fire escape to fuck on in a free
love generation where slut is a designer
shirt with strategically placed holes
when wearing it means not having to pay
for your drinks or sleep alone or with
the same guy twice but goddamnit I buy
my own drinks ‘cause goddamnit I’m a
modern womyn and goddamnit I woe no
man I wear gypsy eyeliner lots of rings
and I carry tarot cards and condoms and
I take my whiskey with ice so I'll have
something to suck on when I'm done
with my drink and the last time I counted
I had five bruises one for the each of ya
and I like to think they add to my
mystique
My Favorite Drink
is a glass of Chianti when I can afford to
drink expensive wine because I get
flushed and bubbly off one glass and will
be in bed by nine and asleep by ten and
up by seven in lots of browns and grays
wool and cashmere and something
cooking in the pot aprons and a kitchen
full of fresh bread and a hundred
different kinds of tea because its all
about being cozy this season and
monogamous and in bed by nine and
taking the meat out of the freezer in time
for dinner when I'm actually having a
dinner and will probably even do the
dishes before next week and take the
trash out before it starts to stink and ask
the sweet light of my eye what he thinks
of this tea pot or that wine glass next to
this paint sample and that dish towel
when my words all come out in the right
order and I don't wear a lot of makeup
because there is no telling when we
might drop by his parents' when the
condoms are kept in the bathroom and
not in the glove box and a bottle of
booze lasts two months instead of two
hours two minutes two days when I am
plump and content and just a little bit
soft around the edges
Emerging Native American Voices
January, 2010
Ungelbah Daniel-Davila
Ungelbah Daniel-Davila lives among the crystal peddlers and adobe prophets in the high desert mountains of Santa Fe, New Mexico where she studies creative writing and Indigenous studies at the Institute of American Indian Arts. Her linage can be traced back to the outlaws of the American West, the Spanish land grant people and the Ashiihi clan of the Dine'. She is a writer, poet, photographer, videographer, scholar, model and muse who draws inspiration from her own multiculturalism and that of the unique place she enhabits as well as punk rock, human sexuality, and the likes of Charles Bukowski, Lydia Lunch, and Johnathan Shaw, among other rebels and dirty old men.