LA Sky. Water. Air.
Maybe it is a trainwreck
This LA meltwater bathwater
Bucket and basin
Crash of all things and edge of a crash
But
I’m in love with it
I want to write more love poems for you
So that you can see how it happens
Right here in the west where they said
Maybe I’ll even find a tattoo for you
For your arm or your neck
Or your chest
I dreamt of LA that first night
In Barstow
Where the trains were running all night
All night
The fire was in me so I kept driving
Down to Victorville
Across the Palmdale Road
Onto the Antelope Hwy
And into Santa Clarita
The wind was howling
I kept going south
That’s when I saw LA for the first time
A millions of streets and lightses and houses
Gas stations and billboards
You can’t imagine all the palm trees
Well maybe you can
I couldn’t
I knew it was night. It looked like day.
I wondered if this was all LA
LA–
How did you manage to do this without me,
And why are you still doing it?