los angeles county

eighty-eight incorporated cities

and i’m walking in its beating heart

in the night time shadows

of the los angeles county museum of art

 

a cop drives by

doesn’t notice

but they don’t pay attention

to clean cut white males in sensible shoes

 

restaurant and entertainment offices

draw my glance

and a lot of attention is being paid

to a really bad accident at the intersection

 

and i just keep walking

no one notices me

i don’t look homeless

i don’t look dangerous

i don’t look famous

and to most everyone here

my “in-shape” body

is a legal requirement

 

it’s getting late

but people are still working

and accessing the streets

building office lights are burning

and i’m ready to jump on the first

transit bus i see

and ride it to a more suited exit

and share my as yet un-opened flask

with anyone who will ask

 

an outside dining area

i observe the faces

and want to go up and ask,

“why do you think you’re relevant?

i can see it in your faces that you do”

but i just keep walking

no sense in talking

when tabloids and t-shirts are a philosophy

 

i see a somewhat appealing bar and go in

wait for the bar tender to make his way to me

after work drinkers seeking escape

from things they will rush back to in the morning

 

i tip the 32 ounce mug of beer and guzzle

this place is a jigsaw puzzle

pieced together into an pretty little picture

but it is not a bar

 

i order an irish car bomb

and close out the tab

guzzle again and call for a cab

i think i have every cab company

in this county in my phone

 

“back to streets where i can roam”

i tell the driver

“i know just the place” he tells me

the yellow melds and mimics the streets

in a short while i’ll be back on my feet

not surrounded by people who tweet

and post selfies at some dot com

 

most people are a cd rom

they can be read but not written upon

 

***