It is a human bazaar. a showcase for bizarre
humans. the freaks.
the warlocks and hustlers on
it has always been this way, hasn’t it?
we arrived at Venice Beach at noon.
“Let’s split up then meet back here at 1 p.m.,” my
my mother went south on the Boardwalk, my father
towards the beach with his camera and
Sophie and I walked north.
the skateboarders flew by.
we fought the crowds.
the sun was beating us down and
Sophie got a lemon icee.
we walked past the medicine men and
medical marijuana dispensaries.
at 1 p.m. we returned to the meeting spot.
my father was there but my mother was
nowhere to be found.
after ten minutes, we decided to go
look for her.
we approached Muscle Beach and there she was,
sitting on a bench staring at Lou Ferrigno
doing bench presses directly in front of her.
“I’m not surprised to find you here,” my father said.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if she was sitting on the guys
biceps,” I said.
sometimes, mother could be so predictable.