LET THE JACKALS COME FOR ME…I WILL ALREADY BE GONE

Standard

By Tom H. Brooks 3

Springtime
MacArthur Park
birds
insects
swarming hordes of humanity
Latinos     Blacks     Asians
no white folks here anymore
only me
with my shaved coconut head
‘What the fuck is THIS guy doing here?!!?’
they say….
I’m just here for tacos,
I think to myself….
I see incredulous expressions
of wonder, humor and utter confusion…
Sidewalks burning
mirages of shimmering heat
oven-hot asphalt
in the high noon sun
sirens
helicopters
voices
traffic
the hum of energy
of
suppressed desperation
and anger
An undercurrent
of boundless violence
A riot waiting to happen

I put my finger on the pulse
of the City…
I put my ear to the ground
and I listen,
I listen closely…
Los Angeles
is throbbing with
hidden lives
and
secret desires
It lies swathed in a
veil of deceit and treachery
of
dreams torn asunder
and
wishes not granted…
dangerous
ugly
intense
sprawling
crazy
beautiful…
Filled with both
great passion
and
supreme apathy,
The City the Angels Forgot…
LA
she lies
burning
under the unforgiving
eye of the sun
Exposed
under the ozone hole
Shrouded
in perpetual smog
Filled
with
stories
dramas
secrets
intrigues…
She waits like
a crouching panther,
she goes about her business
as if all is well
but some of us know better…
Let the jackals come for me,
I will already be gone…….

THB3

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s