Observations 6:27

We walk with heads down

Like palm readers prowling,

Reading

concrete lines

concentrated with abstract eyes, every third line

Looking for our future in

This

city.

 

Dear City, you balance us with

chains in cupped hands. You have-

no blind fold. Your eyes-

cry oceans. Your breath-

forfeits waves. Your sunset-

beats in celestial repetition

guarded by silhouetted mountain ranges.

but,

if this city ever a scale,

Death weighs heavy.

 

City, we are your ripe fruit-

Suspending from your Desert roots.

your hands are overflowing.

 

 

 

 

City, you are an Icarus

City, you are a reincarnated

Babylon.

you speak in bullets.

prophecy tells of a “Rose that grew from concrete”

but you killed the man who saw if first, and made it obsolete with oversight.

city,

instead of the Rose we became the parasite.

 

Los Angeles,

Los angeles,

los angeles,

 

if this city palms,

the earth our arms:

caressing us to sleep,

while the universe sings us to unity-

Us: its time to wake up.

So we can breath you, unzip your name and expose your purpose.

 

LA,

We are looking up now. You-

You                                         LA-

los angeles-

 

“Holy City, full of Grace

We are within you.

Blessed are you amoung men and women

And blessed is the fruit of your womb,

Us.”

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