graveyards, or today

this perpetual smell of burnt rubber

on my way home and walking down the

street to latino market on the corner

near my house. my LA of burnt stars and

burnt street signs, weathered tail lights

and gaze eyes; weathered sighs.

in the backseat i looked back at her

in my rear view mirror responded to her

question "why?"

"why" she said and i said "i don't know i don't

think hollywood is for me, man."

and julia too, with her face toward the open window

of an alvarado/sunset breeze says it's all so diluted,

so far away from the point.

sailing down the boulevard, catching all the greens,

getting in bed late after spin the

bottle, after skirting up the alleyway to my

friend's tiny house where i left my

wine bottle in the kitchen, my portrait

on the kitchen wall and we await nick who'll

be arriving by bus on thursday afternoon and

not a day too soon and it's alright - it's ok, it's all just

for a season anyway and we write letters everyday.

and it's been a time warp of backwards

and forwards but who cares anyway

because you can't take it with you and each time

i compare myself to someone else i lose

a little bit of my soul so i made a deal i

wouldn't do that anymore. i'd rather sell

the shit i don't need to make ends meet than

be stuck in your cubicle six days a week.

and aren't we all just waitin' for things to turn

around? occupy LA is hollerin' just

ten minutes away,

but it's also right here - right where i'm standing

and don't you ever want to walk up to some

people and say "it must be nice to be you"

but we are all fighting great battles

and if it's not this one it's that one,

if it's not here it's there,

and soon the first will be last,

and you can't run away from it jamie i keep

saying and "i'm hangin' by a thread" she keeps

saying and me too.

drivin' across the 10 freeway with those

looming blue black clouds over pasadena

mountains - hollywood sign, griffith

observatory shining under heavenly golden

sun, green hills where i hear my old souls

of past days that sing through the night,

through the graveyards, through the

chainlinked fences, the parking lots

and the small groups waiting for buses in

the dark. and i'm saying fuck this nostalgia

and embrace the morning.

new eyes and new jaw

and a new way to feel your tongue in

your mouth and a new way to smile and

a new reason to smile,

and is it ok to feel ok?

and i've been thinking what is this place

about anyway, these streets, these homes,

everyone tryin' to make it out on top,

or to come out even. to be discovered.

yes and maybe i'll be discovered in the

food 4 less on western, maybe the liquor

store by robbie's house. maybe. maybe.

but maybe the point is we live and die here.

we eat and love here. get married and

baptized here. smoke and drink here.

everyday wake here.

grieve here.

and getting discovered

in the in between.

i'm discovering me. and the best thing i

can do in this season is keep revealing

my self to myself.

i gave a different kind of kiss today

and sold my guitar today.

i don't need them.

i saw a bird fly away today and the sea

calm it's waves today.

my feet hurt today.

i was an open field today.

i buried my friend today.

i closed my eyes and the cement

became one in my veins,

rushing like fast mad traffic,

like intersections about to

explode, like blurring streetlights

of red, yellow, green and every

color in between and the whish,

breeze of the color in me and

slow down, breathe

and

walk with your arms sideways and

play a new game and see the winds

change and be a new brave.

and oh my city, be still my heart.

protect me under the lamplight

by my parked car.

remind me that each moment is truth,

that love can find you.

that definitions are sometimes needless,

that your books hold seeds,

that you need less.

remind me of the boldness that i have

or that sweet is sometimes sad.

oh, remind me that i still have more

to say, that he will find a way.

be still my heart and protect me under

the lamplight by my parked car in

my city while i wait for a change

gon' come.