I leave them all to
their drunken joy
while only I alone
float out the door
on a different high.
Past the blood stained sidewalk
I see only hopelessness,
foolishness.
The winners and the losers
both stained the same red.

My heart has slowed,
my blood as thick as the
gummy *****
that has won its love.
Across Nelson st.
I continue forth.
I stop on the warm black top.
I once seen a photograph of
Bukowski smiling while standing
in this very spot.
I stop and try to feel his joy.

All at once I feel thick hands
pushing me on.
"You won't find it here"
A deep guttural voice says
against the back of my neck.
"Nope not here"
A tired weep escapes me.
"I'm here for you Old Boy"
The original Barfly says to me
as my tears become
the whole of me.
"You're losing"
His beer dressed
breath says into my ear.
"I know its hard but you cant stay here."

Bukowskis ghost takes
hold of my shoulders as I weep.
Pushing me on his
voice becomes harsh.
"God dam it this is how it is!"
He stops me dead center
on Nelson st.
"Didn't you read all that I left for you?"
His shouts are slow and raspy.
"I warned you!I warned all of you!"
I can feel his grip
tighten as my
sobbing shoulders sag
in retreat.
"This is how it is!It hurts!"
His shouts tear into the night
"And the returns are mostly nothing!"

His voice lightens
the smell of cigarettes and
cheap cologne are present.
"Go on now."
His voice now a note above a whisper
"Tend to your own demons.
We and the Gods are with you."

A pat on my right shoulder
then Bukowskis ghost
is pushing me on.
I'm a wreak ,
I don't want them to go.
But I know I cant stay.

I know who
I'm going to see
before
I turn around.
I know whose
hand I felt.
My heart begins to
slowly rip.
My tears run out of
flesh and fall onto
the still warm black top.
Tiny explosions billowing
tiny clouds of steam
erupt as I turn and see
Bukowskis ghost
waving a beefy
hand at me from
the corner of
6th and Nelson st.

Next to him stands
my Grand Father,
the man who
broke my heart
when the Gods
decided to take
him away.
He's smiling,
his malice free eyes
just as welled
as my own.
Bukowski puts
his arm around
my long dead
Grand Father
and comforts him as
he smiles that smile
I still long
for in my dreams.

I fall apart.
Then quietly gather
up what little
that is left of me.
I turn away from
the ghosts on Nelson st.
Focus on the
bright lights of the
Warner's marquee
and without looking
back I continue on.

Got a second for me Los Angeles
I am the product of your wish less stars,
shot out street lamps and *** holed streets.
Your trigger happy
cops who stalk your darkened streets like
the true predators they are.

Spare some time for me Los Angeles
I've drank hard and laughed along your
beaches.
Lived on your toxic air.
Turned into a ghost and chased the high all through
your city streets.
I watched the beautiful
people stay beautiful beneath endless California
summers.
I fought the good fight against your
tan shirts within the coldness of your jail.

Stay with me for a moment Los Angeles
The dead are still celebrated throughout your
Palm lined streets.
Your city lights still bring colors
to my dreams.

A little longer Los Angeles
I still can't bear the thought of ever leaving you
even when all the signs around me say I should.

I don't expect any return from you Los Angeles
San Julian showed me the real you.
These scars on the crook of my arm proved the real you.

Trust in me Los Angeles
I'm with you until we fall into the sea.

Believe in me Los Angeles
I'm not an actor on TV.
My name is not on a star to
be spat and stepped upon.
Nor am I a heretic  
living behind a veil within
the comfort of your hills.

Don't forget me Los Angeles
I am the son of your southern most tip.
The son of the town named after the
Saint Pedro.
Whose roots are that of a
Lost Angel.
Lost within the deep darkness
of you.

You got to look
hard for the good,
for the enlightenment.
Its there,
its always been there,
like that pitch fork
shaped birth mark
on the back of your
knee.
Its there,
though you rarely
take the time
or the effort it
takes  to
see it.

Sometimes its in
plain sight,
like the rock fish in
the coral.
Stare into the
pillars of your
memory.
Seek out the
happy times
like bees do
to pollen rich
Marigolds.

You can find it
in Low Bars
and trash laden
streets.
Cheap made up
Women and
in cold locked
down  jail cells.
It may be the
words you find
as you read passed
missing pages of
a book left behind
by the prisoner
before you.

Laugh in their grin
strained faces
then smile to yourself.
Smile for the memories
and know that I
and the Gods
are smiling with
you.

These tears
are constantly
blocking my
view
as I struggle
with these
words
in memory
of
you..

I navigated my
way along the
narrow path
ways  that had been
forever inbedded
by the
footsteps of the
young who've
cut
their path
throughout their
years,venturing as I
once did throughout
these ruins.
The narrow trails
from brave riders
who pedal their way
through the past
and in between all that
has been ruined
snaked all around
and in between
this broken
part of the
city.

I approached the
edge of the world with
caution even though
I feared not death.
I listened to the sound
of the Grand Pacifics anger
as it pounded away
at the end of the earth
a deaths
flight  below me.
Visions of the past
when I was that
braver soul
than I am now
crept up on me.
I took them in
then
put them away
in that dark
corner of my
mind where the
good times
are kept.
I laughed it
all off
and continued on.

I made my way
past the remnants
of all that was
once here before
the sea decided to
take it away.
The only signs left
now are just pieces
of crumbling
asphalt and
graffiti covered
ruins.
These cliffs and
these remnants
of a long ago
sunken part of
this city served
as the untamed
and mostly
unsupervised
playground of
my youth.
I played hard
as that young
adventurous
boy who
I miss so much.
Drank even
harder as a
stubborn  young
and unsure
man along these
cliffs.

I stopped and
took in the
tainted
air.
The smell of the fuel and the city
for now wiped away by
the rolling winds
coming in from the west.
The night was alive
with smaller forms of life,
crickets,barking dogs,
spatting feral cats and
the moans of a beaten man
seeking shelter in a hole
beneath a
broken slab of asphalt.
  The sage bush filled
the nightime air
with blessings.
The salt from
the sea almost
tickled
the nose.

Somewhere
in the
distance a ship
sounded its horn.
Sea lions
barked
in time with the
uneven ringing of
the ancient bell
on the ancient
Red buoy
as it rose and chimed
along with  
the swells
somewhere
in that sea
of darkness.

I left the broken
ruins behind
and made
my way toward
the Park
that had been
brilliantly positioned
along the
rim of
the world.
The memories
of happy times
struggled with
my sadness.
The images of better
times demanded
to be remembered.

I started across the
tear soaked grass
as I walked beneath
beautiful ancient Eucalyptus
and Sycamore trees.
Pine trees that
stood slumped over
like the ancient old
men they were.
I stopped half way
to the middle
as a one eyed calico feral
crossed my path .

I've foraged many
a happy memory
with old
forgotten friends
and long departed
lovers within this park.
Drank when the drinking
was done for fun,
and laughed that
care free laugh
I'll never hear again.
Fought a good mans
fight when the
odds were all
against me.
Evened  it out with
a tool made for killing.
Just one more memory
I now live with.

Now after so
many years
and so much
of what this
life has thrown
before me.
I now come
here only
at night,
alone.
When its only me
the feral cats
and the
thieving raccoon's.
Often times,
I'm comforted
by the
old worn
coat I refuse
to replace,
a cheap bottle
dressed in a brown
paper bag and
a mind still alive
with visions
of other times
than these.

I forget
those horrors
that still force
me out into
the night.
And take a lonely
pull
beneath the
Moons silent
glow.
I toast the night
and those
who dwell
within it.
I worked on the
bottle
while staring
into the
darkness at
nothing.

A smile breaks
free across my
tired face as I
 look to the moon
and realize.
This same sacred
Moon light
that shines upon me
is the same
distant glow
that I know
shines somewhere
upon her.

Its Torture.
The cruel
painless kind.
Torture,
like watching her
from the shadows
as she  
Loves her new Lover
while you're
still so alone.
Within my
mind Ive said
a word then
spelled out
in ryhm.
It sounds so perfect
within my
mind,my quivering lips
mouth the
word in silence.
Im afraid to try,
listen to my struggle
and you shall see
why it
is I hardly
speak.
Its the stammer,
the god given
gift which has
held my
opinions hostage.
Prevented me from
approaching her
and telling her
what she secretly
longed
to hear.
Forced me at times
to remain silent
when there was
so much more I
had to say.
This stammer
provides
cruel children
reason enough to be
even crueler.
I speak around certain
words and
communicate
more with the hands.
Kind souls
finish sentences
for me as I fight
for my voice.
Never  knowing that
their attempt
at being helpful
only drives this silent
knife even deeper.
This Stammer has
barricaded what
I need to say
somewhere
within that dead
and maimed space
between
my mind and
my speach.
I'm tunneling my
way out of this
self contained  
prison.
Word by
written word .
Im slowly
finding
a way for
this silent
and crippled
voice
to finally
be heard.

She closed one grey eye
and watched as
the now
scortched
diamond dust
slowly
settled into a
small
pool at  
the bottom
of the bubble.
A tiny heart pounded
like a turbine piston
hard and relentless
against her bare,
freckled dressed chest.
Small beads of
sweat formed
then dried almost
immeditly
down her bare back
and in between
the small mounds
she wore as *******.

She closed her right eye and
held the wand
up towards the
bare bulb light.
She watched transfixed
as the once delicate,
man made,
toxic concoction
that was now
a heated puddle
of stimuli cooled.
Then brought forth images
of great stretching snow flakes
and shattered
diamonds reaching
all throughout
the bubble tipped
tool  she had
taken in as a lover.

And there will
be no sleep
tonight for the
Down Town dealers
and this delicate
lost soul with
diamonds
in her  eyes.
Theres too many
memories that
need to be
tamed ,
too many
nightmares to
give in to sleep.
Stay awake ,
create more time
and consume every bad
thing that's before
you.

Seek out a cold
place in the night,
then stare at the heavens
while  shaking
a clenched fist upon
the serpents.
As our world reveals
more another
falls,picks up
a tool  and
turns to what works.

Choosing the
easy way out
is never an easy
decision.
As crystals cool
then melt again
another decision has
turned to
death in the
form of a captive
life without
freedom enough to
care or breath.

She walked toward
the window and
stood naked
and high before
the city.
A tear tumbled
and dried
before it ever
left her face.

Another diamond
obsessed ,dreamless
dreamer,
waiting out the
night,dealing with
the madness and
sharing none
of her horrors
with the shadowed
world she was forced
to haunt.
Living every hour
wide  awake,
wired and full
of pills.
Desperate for some
other place thats
far away from here.

Slowly
and quietly
dying an older
souls death.
Far before
what should
have been
her peaceful
and merciful
kind of ending.