Trish got a year for check fraud.
Justified it by saying she was underpaid.
And she didn’t exactly get reformed on the inside.
Instead, she just learned how to steal bigger things.
Her cellmate taught her how to
hot wire and steal cars.
When she got out, she got drunk
and boosted a red chevy coupe
that caught her eye.
Drove it along Mulholland Drive,
which made her a bit forgetful
There’s a line in the hillside that
they all scamper along.
A coyote ran through the gully,
quick and quiet.
Racing to who knows where.
The cicada sing like pouring rain.
It’s a pulse and within that pulse is a larger wave.
One song of courtship,
the other to mate when she has chosen him.
In Black Canyon City.
Sleeping on a bench, no rain, mild breeze.
Fixing her hair just right, you never know who might appear
in the moonlight.
Pull you from the down and out,
right back up again.
Trish had almost forgotten about him,
he’d been gone that long.
Still help out hope he might
be back this way again.
Trish was tired most days,
but particularly today.
Maybe it was the heat or
the fact she hadn’t really slept in a month.
Leonard had just disappeared and
left her with the bills to pay.
Working in the fields was hard work.
She didn’t blame him for going,
just blamed him for going like that.