15/100

Through the dark LA streets

The rain pooling in the gutters
the slosh of the passing cars

The storm falling back like a coward against the onslaught of the terrain

Out of an art show of spraycans

I jump out into the street

And catch Spout as she leaps over the water filled fissures

“Hold’on to her!” He says. A homeless man in the passing direction,

passing on in the opposite direction

We are just the flak in what must be his crack-laden mind

“Hold’on t’her.” He echoes aloud behind us

Like some midnight sermon to nobody

And were gone like the fading sirens

Were gone like wildfires that burn the Hollywood hills to ash,

We are fucking gone.

I think back to this second often

Late nights where I wake up just before blue hour

Wondering what dreams come

Or if I’m simply sleepwalking

And dreaming of the times where I was last asleep

Thinking on to the nature of letting go.