I love you, because you’re interesting.

Posted: June 22, 2015 in Poetry

New York is scarier than Los Angeles, with all its sharp corners and winters that can kill you,

but LA has more ghosts.

ghosts that scream at you from windows in cars that don’t drive by.

That waft up with scents in alleys

and bus stops

and places behind restaurants.

They lick the sweat off of the back of your neck

and they turn food to dust.

They turn everything to dust with their fine white teeth.

You’d think New York would have more, with its three hundred years of murder, and all the promotion in the world, but there are more ghosts in Los Angeles.

Speaking languages with curse words from when horses broke the morning. Iron and meat. Dancing with the warnings.

They’re gonna eat you. They’re gonna eat everything. They’re here for the weather.

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