​I painted the skyline on my body
and watched as
the skylines rose like ink blots bleeding,
their spires piercing my belly.

The streetwalkers like freckles
waited for a green light,
and then walked flatly down my legs
toward my feet in a rush.

I looked toward my heart,
and found a homeless man sleeping there
trying to keep warm while
digesting all my arteries.

The din of traffic
made me shiver,
the Red Line zooming through
each vein on the verge of exploding.

And the L.A. River on my hips,
only a dry concrete basin,
said one word and I was drained,
smiling as it was filled to the brim with red.

My eyes became that of
a sad, dark-haired girl
crossing through Grand Park
on her way to the concert hall.

But when I moved my arms,
a crowd of people met their death
on the floor around me,
and in a minute, the beauty was gone.

03/30/2018

Posted on 03/30/2018
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