July 2024

Los Angeles at Night

The copter was so low,

It almost cut the city sign,

Sliced the string of lights,

Choppers to the left,

Choppers to the right,

Pretty much a full blown,

Apocalypse Now, Vietnam, redux,

I turned starboard,

Toward the bus stop,

And asked the mostly green,

Camouflaged guy that lives there,

The guy that blocks the sidewalk,

Three shopping carts and four dogs,

The guy that has one tooth left,

But five pizza boxes, what happened,

He points at the bus,

The tire, the rim.

I look down at my shoelace on my port foot,

It has become untied,

He grunts,

I walk away without tying it.