Friday, April 13, 2012


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. 

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