a ghost in los angeles

(paint the clouds any color

you want them to be

just don’t silhouette me

against an august sky

- john young)

 

you caught my eye across the bar

beneath the black l.a. sky

you were with friends

i watched you laughing

the kind of laughter which shines

not cause you were drunk

you’d barely touched your wine

 

you caught me looking

returned my look in kind

one that indicated

it could at some time

become a look that invites

 

that’s all it took

for me to pay my tab

and leave

 

it’s not that you weren’t for me

but i’m not the guy

who will cause continuance

of such laughter

i didn’t want to ruin

such a beautiful thing

 

*

 

back on the streets

i flow like an empty stream

dancing in the indignation

of a drought

but i brought my own liquid

open my flask

but only after i’ve lit

another cigarette

 

this is me

the me that’s walking

not one to light a fire

take up sofa residence with you

and your favorite bag of

all organic unsalted chips

and watch a romantic movie

 

at play

ghost in l.a.

made invisible

by the darkness

that illuminates my mind

 

wow

a taco truck

this poem is gonna

have to wait

 

“seis carne asada tacos por favor”

 

these things are the pearls

found in oysters

 

devoured

i wipe my messy hands

on my jeans

swish peppermint schnapps

to cleanse my teeth

of the finest debris

swallow

light a smoke

put plugs in my ears

select kristin mcclement’s

“drink waltz”

watch l.a. race

to be in moments

like i am now

 

all my earlier need

to justify my juxtaposition

gone

 

my only remaining need

is that what i’m watching

isn’t watching me

need fulfilled

in l.a. nobody cares

i am invisible

stripped, naked and bare

i am a ghost in l.a.

who has experienced

the other side of this existence

and found no reward

no consequence

there is nothing to reveal

just what you feel

which you have denied

causing you to die

and dig a grave

that will never be deep enough

to contain the collection

of all that you carry around

because l.a. echoes with the sound

of all the things that you need

to be the perfect meal

upon which everyone else can feed

 

***