walkin towards sunset and gower, hollywood
a very old guy tap dances for me in the echoing garage of a foreclosure
i see a bug sleeping between the quick and the dead when a raindrop falls on it jolting it flamboyantly
a nostalgic crush of tears when i see a small boy with perfectly combed and pomaded hair, and carrying a briefcase, following proudly must be his mother down the sidewalk
watched a bum throw his heavy load over his other shoulder in a bright spank of sun
couldn't believe it but saw a rare yugo parked in the driveway of a duplex, egg splatter drying across taillights and rear window
i hear a crass bebop step step step it's the old cripple nearing the porno section of the sidewalk newstand
sudden vision of a wind gust flattening the fur of a standing collie
a silvergray tourist bus passes slowly, the driver's voice unintelligibly droning energetically
ok i open the screen door of roscoe's house of chicken and waffles and see a vacant table by the window
used to be i could smoke luckies here and watch lovely chocolate legs adjust themselves beneath the tables
a few things have changed but not the leg thrill