sorry, using the prodding of a new friend to put everything i have here in vancouver up all at once… she says, hey, put up a poem or something, so i can read it. so what does martin do? he types in the entire contents of his notebook. such a freakin’ nerd. the contents of Apocrypha (my other collection) will go up in about a month.
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i wrote this one kind of as a pastiche of drive-by observation whippet-snippets while driving down the length of santa monica boulevard in the midde of the night about a year ago… which is a semi-surreal experience i’d highly recommend to anyone…
DESERTED LOS ANGELES AT 2:30am
405 lively but flowing free
like a river it paved
the way
santa monica blvd wide opentemple bar–billie jean
zanzibar–nice beats, too many dress-too-impress types, moving on
took smb all the way to sunsetlittle temple–closed–milling outside, graph, sales.
before that, midnight tacos–busy
before that, smb @ ?–PACKED with cleancut drunken hordes, and a few men embracing not in a drunken way
suddenly, pawn shop. then “nude adult” joints. this is where it changes.
salvadorean cuisine. everything falling apart
with many small businesses stuck in the cracksoutside little temple–looks like a “residential” area. just enough so i feel i shouldn’t piss in a corner here.
the smell of urine hangs over the whole neighbourhood. perfect level of seediness, with the replete old guy with headphones cliché, a shopping cart on the move here and there.it took roughly a half hour to get from wilshire & 10th to here. the cool sketchy area’s been going for a while. seemed like it could just keep going in any arbitrary direction. but as soon as i turned the corner onto sunset, the giant robot store told me the funk begins and ends here.
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asocial studies 