Sunday, April 10, 2011


Now you expect a travelogue after Los Angeles.
You have so many memories you need to give
new flesh and find again the bone that loves . . .
but driving alone is work to concentrate upon.
If something occurs to you, your free hand
reaches, there is no other hand, you must stop
to jot on paper that is not there, but no stopping
on the freeway, even if it’s easy driving compared
to the coast road waiting. Remember Long Beach,
no? What about the blonde in Compton? Sandy
was her name. She was just a dragstrip mama,
you were very young but had what she wanted,
her mother off working. Your great grandmother
next door would’ve understood, she ran a brothel
in Oklahoma, Alice did. Then Mr. Smith arrived
from Alaska, the bachelor fisherman come down
to the lower 48, and how could she resist? Alice
married and lived happily ever after, I mean it!
You need to keep your mind there, where love
works out to share endlessly, give all you need . . .

(10 April 2011)

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