9/8/92- Hang

                                 9/8/92
                                   L.A.

                Hang

    This city hangs from my neck
    A hundred mile wide sinker with no lure
    Time away has dulled my senses
    Pulled the ink from my fingertips
    Even driving up and back trying to depress myself
    Brings no moldy musty muse forward...

    I had a neighbor for 3 hours
    She had an alarm and a boyfriend,
    Some kitchen supplies,then she left
    But lucky for me I have a cul de sac
    I found a new neighbor between shopping carts
    Silent like a shy spirit in a Balinese gate
    At night, a low glow from his fire greets me
    And yet I don't think he speaks the language,
    Does not want to
        (I don't blame him).

    The coffee's dark,the coffee's bright
    The wine makes the sidewalk feel like a blacklit sofa
    The evening air turns a Japanese hood into a love seat
    This is still an exercise
    These images have no inspiration
    I feel like a reporter without a story
    Who would listen to this?