Lost Angeles

Helicopter blades chop through arid air sirens fill space off in the distance. Somewhere, someone still believes the promise of prosperity the American dream but not much really lives in Lost Angeles cock roaches and coyotes. Police spotlights eye-ing up dilapidated housing developments like a titty show. Cops driving slow on streets that form lines like dope trails like they're looking for crack on skid row or pussy on Hollywood Boulevard or someone to talk to on the last train to Union Station. Helicopter blades chop through arid air sirens fill space off in the distance.

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evan-ponter

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