Barbareño


Sun touched Chumash children played upon the land.
Golden brown bears walked from mountains to coastal sand as wild steelhead swam up the Los Angeles River.
Cabrillo eyed the wide expanse. Spanish sailors laughed and danced with visions of beautiful wild maidens.
Old San Salvador bobbed and slipped smoothly through the warm salt waters of Southern California.
The Spanish Crown would be so glad, but thousands of Chumash would soon be sad.
Enchanted summer turned to fall as tranquil waters north turned to squall.
Captain Cabrillo and his men
returned south again,
to find protection on Miss Santa Catalina.
A fateful cut caused Juan’s leg to swell.
On January 3rd his men bid him farewell.
Near 500 years have past since then, Cabrillo’s gone as are his men.
40 million now tread upon nature’s most beautiful daughter.
Still upon a starlit night moon beams reflect an ancient light down on crashing waves with effervescent thunder. Her powerful beauty comes out again and erases the scars of greedy men.
Ancient words of Chumash roll and the ghosts of Tule elk bugle like banshees across the water. When again, will she be free to run again in harmony with nature and the universe of her creator?

I parked the car in downtown
San Pedro
I stood in the rain outside the
Cabrillo Hotel
The people looked awful
Battered
There was a homeless punk woman
With face tattoos
Staring at me from her dry corner
A 50 year old woman spilled from the bar to the street
She reeked of wine
"*******! Some ******* dropped me off here and left! Can you give me a ride? That *******! My husband's a doctor ******! My son goes to UCLA! Can you give me a ride?"
She reeked of ****
A small ***** old man sat on the bar
Steps
Smoking Buglers
He shook his head at me
"Don't do it son, she's outta her mind."
The landlord finally came down
Showed me Rm. 101
It was a 30x25 space
With a mini fridge, closet, the mirror
A sink to **** in
The landlord said "You can see the downtown from the window."
I looked out
A trash can in an alley.
I just kept thinking about
Fante's Ask the Dust,Dreams from Bunker Hill
Bukowski's poem How to be a Great Writer
I hoped they were right
"I'll take it."
The first night the couple next door
Had a fist fight
And a fat cockroach crawled up my back in bed
The drunks ran up and down the halls at 3AM
I was not happy
But Rm 101 toughened me up
Very well
It became my oasis in hell
I have everything I need
Coffee maker, air mattress, radio
Beers in the fridge, big stack of books, most importantly
A place to get away
From the madness of the people
And when I finally get out of this
*******
I think I might miss it

It's called the Hotel Cabrillo
Rent's $550 a month
The stairs are dead
And the brick is sobbing
In 100 years of blood and spit
The tenants are much the same
Except maybe a few years younger
I saw her at the door today
She was my age
Her eyes were bold
Dark
I was covered in sweat from work
She opened the building door for me
The way she looked up at me
Like I was it
Something to see
I haven't seen that look in years...
It murdered the last five years...
The bad ones...
For a moment...
I said "thanks"
She smiled, said "no problem"
But it was