Los Angeles flows like its river
hard and concrete.
riff raffs of humanity speaking in tongues
riveted in cinematic ecstasy
-- a plaintive sax riff
rifles the air
We move through L. A.
on cerebral wavelength
justifying our mediums
as pickpockets and panhandlers
beg our minds for quarters.
-- an aimless guitar
wails in the moonlight
Souls drink from empty troughs
people run from each other’s arms
contempt exhales from car windows
-- a choir of mismatched
voices scat along a river of tears
soothing tones echo in our ears
the silence of flowers blooming
holding passion in their stems
-- a percussive bass
drives concrete beat
I look at you
I look at you
…looking at me
-- how hollow are the
riffs bartending our souls
