mn
::
poetry
Yucaipa Mandala
The sun comes up over San Jacinto
A few quarts of thirty-weight keep the motion smooth
Horses are freed to small pastures
And the yellow ground mist dissolves
The novitiates return from the hills and canyons
A baggie of weed in the glove box
Everclear and Kool-Aid
Eggs fry
Sweet black coffee pours
Promises of the day's heat lightly encircle dusty throats
Primer-gray fenders and black windows
Long-haired Satanists sleep it off
To try again another night
Old man wears his yellow Caterpillar cap today
Mends things around the house
The brush must be cut back from the yard
A three oh two bored and blueprinted to three oh five
Garth Brooks
Metallica
Great brooding trees planted by the settlers
Mom does the grocery shopping
Screams of children playing Nintendo
A truck of laughing hairspray girls passes
The Valley of a Thousand Smokes rolls to the invisible sea
Buckling under squares of concrete
Patches of scrub grass and irrigated parklawns
Beer billboards play host to taggers
Nobody's children from the Seven-Eleven parking lot
Playing hide-n-seek with the county sheriff
Rough idling Isky camshaft
Built for speed
Down there in farflung sprawled Los Angeles live the insane
Ungodly killers
The headers are by Thrush
The Rim of the World channels their fumes into this
Gateway of the white clean desert
The deep bubbling sound of Flowmasters
In the evening the light comes through the smoke
Every night the city burns
Positraction
Sixteen inch wheels
A mini-mall a month
Goodyear Eagles put it to the road
The drive-through lane at Carl's Jr.
A top speed of one fifty and
Zero to sixty in five point eight.
Last modified: Oct 24, 2008 2:28 pm.
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