The Price of Water in Los Angeles
Sunset and Highland in broad daylight. It’s a tricky place. Exhaust
His name is Richard. Sometimes he sleeps w/ a woman named Ellen.
He remembers things differently from Ellen He avoids the eyes of strangers. * His mother had one good eye.
She longed for depth perception above all else
When he reached the age of consent They still laugh about it.
She didn’t work and he would go with her downtown, * She won’t leave him alone with words.
Words alone offer no solace: Only movie trailers, a quickie divorce
When she reminds him that the diminutive of his name *
His mother had a butterfly tattoo on her butt.
He knew then that faith was a bad mix with desire. His chrysalis, his own blood metamorphosed into a butterfly. *
In a perfect world Richard is a reporter * It’s not without pastoral elements:
Round the bend on the 405 just past Reseda
Gogol’s Petersburg or Eliot’s London Los Angeles haiku:
Single-minded sports cars
Sunset Boulevard
It’s hard to get your bearings when the quickest way to the Far East *
The cemetery behind the Avco Theatre on Wilshire. It’s a preacher’s place
What he loves most about L.A. is—
Ideas—that don’t fit on 3 minutes of video—have no place. Hence the problem of credit.
R. D. Girard | Mudlark No. 21 |