All posts in "LA Stories"

A Neighborly Day in the Beautywood

Published December 28, 2017 in Artificial Intelligence , LA Stories - 0 Comments

Another Planet

4 hoodbirds.
Sitting on a high wire.
The ring leader, Heavy,
munching on a finch.

Just another day in paradise.
Jill, Heavy’s friend lady, was feeling
slighted because he was ignoring her.

Meanwhile his henchmen, Maurice and Bilko,
we’re kibitzing.
“Look at her, looking all dejected.
The boss has got to eat.”
“He eats first, everyone knows that.”
“Did you hear those parrots?”
“Yeah, what a racket.”

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Another strange AI caption. I liked the idea of these four ravens being extraterrestrials.

Visitation

Published December 28, 2017 in LA Stories - 0 Comments

IMG_4180
Little concrete angel
oddly life like.
Caught sitting and
Turned to stone.
Time has chipped away
at him.
But has not diminished
his innocence or kindness.
Or maybe
he’s nothing more
then sand, cement and stones
molded into something
children once
longed for.

Kitchen Decisions

Published December 24, 2017 in LA Stories - 0 Comments

Kitchen Decisions2You know,

the ones that affirm life.

Is it garlic and olive oil?

Or garlic and time (thyme)?

You know what I meant.

With the knives it’s always

about the project.

Meat and vegetables or…?

How do we want to divide it?

The knife is the vehicle,the angle,

the geometry, the knowing of the key passages

that the knife just liberated.

Cooking is subversion.

Eating is the essence of life.

Straight Butter

Published November 27, 2017 in LA Stories , Max - 0 Comments

Straight Butter

She had engraved the knife 

As a one off trial

To see how it played.

The irony was lost on her.

She’d left it behind.

Now that she was gone

And Max had the house to himself.

He could leave the dishes

And slather “happiness” 

All over his bread.

Possibility is best served toasted,

Actually.

Chips and Bitters

Published November 24, 2017 in I Don't Even Know , LA Stories , Max - 0 Comments

Chips and Bitters

I liken you to a janitor

The way you mopped

The floor with me.

Closed the door on me,

All the while

Saying you adored on me.

And I liken you to a cold syringe 

The way you needled me

Injected me

Infected me with a virus

That protected me

Until you rejected me

All the while

Peeking through 

The peephole 

Smiling on the other side

Of the door.

This

Published November 19, 2017 in LA Stories - 0 Comments

This

This is it.

This now,

This moment.

It’s happening in real time,

right here, in front of us.

Where are you?

I saw you and then you were gone.

I asked after you

and they said that your house was teetering and

defying gravity.

That you were a tight rope walker.

I knew you knew.

Lullaby

Published November 12, 2017 in LA Stories , Mickey - 0 Comments

Lullaby2

Sing me a story, won’t you?

With a melody sweet and plaintive.

Sing to me about the time

you loved so deeply, true and simply.

Before the busy

complications of life

turned your chords into regrets

and your voice into

a hoarse and bitter growl.

Sing me that story

that I know you still remember.

August

Published November 2, 2017 in August , LA Stories - 0 Comments

August

Sometimes, what we deem “fate”

is just foolishness.

She walked in off the street asking

if they were hiring.

And, coincidentally, they were.

She had a good resume, credentials

and, more importantly, she exuded

warmth with an earnest smile.

Just perfect for the front desk person.

No one bothered to do background check

or to call her references.

If they had, they might have gotten some

inkling into the kind of damage

she was capable of inflicting.

And maybe, just maybe they could have

saved themselves some pain.

Diana

Published October 30, 2017 in LA Stories - 0 Comments

Diana

Was a badass guitar player.

Like the huntress,

only her Strat was her bow.

And her solos were the arrows

she shot into the night.

When they gigged at the Bowl,

all the wild children went crazy.

She channeled that

into a blistering lead

that floored it off the bandstand.

The moon shone brightly.

Louisville Slugger

Published October 27, 2017 in LA Stories - 0 Comments

Louisville slugger

“Hey batter, no batter, hey batter, you can’t hit.”

Bat, listen to me. I need you now.

Come here, I kiss you.

Swing and a miss.

I bite you!

Just make contact, that’s all.

Foul ball right field line.

Pretty please,

with sugar on top.

I lick you.

One base hit, It’s all I ask.

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