the dark streets of decay 18

it’s L.A., it’s raining

i’m wet and i’m walking

sound familiar?

 

maybe this will help

i’m drunk

 

canadian physicists

are saying the universe has always been

eternal

no beginning, no end

 

let them come walk with me in L.A.

on these dark streets of decay

and their armchair equations

will be exposed as mental masturbation

 

nothing lasts forever

 

i go under an overhang

and light a cigarette

it’s so cold and i’m so fucking wet

 

i shiver and sliver and refill my quiver

a genuine repose i’ll never deliver

 

stripped to the bones and bleached white

it’s one a.m. in the morning

but we call it night

 

equations, theories and ideas

seem so unreal

right here, right now

concrete and steel

 

i am a poet with nothing to feel

but the intoxication of late night L.A.

and all the beer that came out to play

with me

 

and once again i have nothing to say

i’m just responding to what was said

 

enticing me to come to their bed

ripples and shock waves only occur

when something still is suddenly disturbed

 

a man and a woman, a woman and man

running past me as fast as they can

holding their jackets over their heads

the rain is the reason for their instead

 

and the momentary reason is the only

real reason there is

 

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