Playa del Rey

 

We live in beautiful places
we thrive in ordinary spaces
just like they were
always the new places

planes save their graces
exiting LAX to the west
over the water and laughter
upon the beach communities
succulents, sand and palm trees
barely high enough
to be above us, a wind’s gust

it sounds so serious and furious
the humming of 737s to clouds
each flight something new
each flight something old
something for someone
a stranger reaching home soon

every 15 seconds it beckons
it does not stop (unless it flops)
it is rather tragic
the sadness of Surfridge
dream homes and luxurious lives
the city’s first insomniacs
truly suffering in decadence
cry again and again

they just keep going out
beginning doubts, feeling stout
over the water, the crashing waves
they should not bother them

the screaming girls with swirling curls
playing in their wake in such great faith
losing bottoms and innocence at first
like sweat dripping down the neck

it is never just the 2 of us
in the muck, the mucky muck
what is such luck?
even when we are alone
at home we moan and groan
all the creeping people
wondering how it is going to go
at the water’s edge
watching the ebb and flow

in the end in the end
we all should become friends
in the end
fly out of Los Angeles
discussing politics and the new ways
new places to begin to escape
old places to remember them

mountains look so clear
still I cannot believe we are here
becoming foggier, groggier
it is harder to see me
I am getting sloppier
with the distance
in between us and them

where does the stem begin?

-Nisi-

 

 

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