asleep to disappointment
I drive as far as anyone asks
and daydream about the Isaac Mizrahi
zigzags from the black and
white movie
smoking and tulle
lit like a target dressing room
to my left the blackened hills
of the 405 building themselves
back up in green
charred in the same pattern
as the poet's shoes that night
black and green
lonely and puzzling
at least I have a good view
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