El A
Poem 8 from my chapbook "As Glamorous as a Kidney"
The lights of that filthy city
Sparks a small bit of happiness
Inside me.
I can’t explain why.
{
L.A
{
Where the seraphim live.
Where the suits come and go each
Day to make their bread.
Where the crack heads roam and
Bums are sheltered by tents.
Where the dream lives and dies.
{
Driving up the freeway.
As I approach this place I always
Scope the buildings outline
And the thousands of windows shining
From them.
I begin to feel excited
The closer I come, and once I’m
Surrounded by these structures from
The left to right, I'm content.
{
Los Angeles.
A filthy city with a beautiful face.
Words will never be capable of
Describing what it means to me
}
Filter to April 6, 2017
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