160. The Empire Is Melting Like Ice Cream

Dreaming -
I awake
screaming

at images
of bodies
burning

of God-size
buildings
crumpling

of my
people
flying

or maybe
they’re
falling

yes,
they’re
falling

and flailing
and
bouncing

helpless
weightless
screaming

dust
clouds
spiralling

street map
city lines
looming

brown
sky line
darkening;

sweating
heart
pounding

reaching for
the Xanax
sipping

some water
slowly, then
gulping

tight
temples
throbbing

I turn
on the
TV

and see
my
country

bleeding
broken
already mourning

the loss
of an
irretrievable past

lamenting
grieving
wondering

how
and
why

and all
of a
sudden

the creation
of a
masterpiece

doesn’t
seem
that important.

The pressure
lifts,
the tension

in my
temples
like

an
ice-cream
headache

abates and
I can think
clearly

for the
first time
in years.

I treat
myself
to a

long
early morning
walk

and for
the first time
in a decade

America
looks beautiful
in turmoil;

So
clearly
vulnerable,

(its many
transgressions
laid bare)

I fall
in love
with LA

all
over
again.