"angelinos" poems
On a lazy winter day that doesn't feel like winter at all
(70 degrees outside, yet the los angelinos are still feeling chilly)
She scrapes the burned cheese off of the griddle
(burns her fingers, but that doesn't matter, not really)
Because that's the best part about making grilled cheese
As she's waiting for the cheese to melt, she picks up her tea mug
(takes a sip, and looks out the kitchen window)
And she's wishing that she could go home
(technically LA is home, but it isn't really, not to her)
Because she's looked for her heart in this city, but she can't find it.
Dec 21, 2011
Dec 21, 2011 at 8:00 PM UTC
All freeways and gas stations
Throngs of people
But none on the streets
All in their cars
All wanting things
Lots of things
Hating things
Hating ideas
Promiscuous and lonely
Bluntly anonymous
Unapologetically trendy
Getting under my skin
Sep 19, 2010
Sep 19, 2010 at 1:25 PM UTC