i
was born in santa monica
in
the county of los angeles
kennedy
was still president
during
the turbulent 60s
after
saturday morning cartoons
i
would play on the swing set
in
my parent’s backyard
pretending
i was tarzan
in
the 70s
i
was whatever would
get
a girl to kiss me
in
the 80s
i
grew my hair
wrote
poetry
and
drifted from
job
to job
in
the 90s
well,
it was over
i
entered my thirties
and
even though
i
would go on to be
a
published novelist
earn
a 3rd degree black belt
in
karazenpo go shinjutsu
and
learn the bible so well
i
held my own
in
a theological discussion
with
a man who had his
doctorate
of divinity
i’m
not sure any of it was me
i
didn’t find my voice again
until
last november’s end
when
i wrote
“i
almost remember”
and
began all i had to say
about
the dark streets of decay
tomorrow
i think i will go
to
the santa monica pier
walk
underneath and wonder
on
what spot i was conceived
i’ll
find the homeless
who
sleep on the cliffs above
pass
out cigarettes
and
have conversations
about
unrequited love
and
if any of those homeless
turns
out to be a female
i
will propose on the spot
i’ll
be the shelter
and
she’ll be the cot
and
together with pillows
and
coats without feathers
we
will beg at the banquet of love
recycle
our mounds of
bottles
and cans
roam
until midnight
bleaches
out our tans
and
on hollywood boulevard
no
one will ask
if
we want a tour
they
will just assume we are locals
presidents
will be sworn in
soldiers
will finally get to come home
corporations
will continue
their
battle to eliminate minimum wage
and
the light from extinguished stars
will
continue to travel
while
physicists continue to unravel
and
rape the mysteries of ignorance
she
and i will define romance
relevant
and indifferent
lost
in an unmade bed
unapprised
of the most recent
things
being said
as
the world goes on without us
***
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