Friday, July 20, 2012


Just off the highway, to El Monte, California
The full crimson moon stands atop thin rooftops, watching
And the eyes of two men
Darken with fatigue
They have come slowly out of their apartments
In time, to observe my car and me
I drive past them along Exline headed to Gilman
The street where they had been standing all day, without work
They sigh a deep sigh, unable to contain their sadness
Who cares that I have come
They hang to the side like unused ropes. They love their families.
There is no loneliness like theirs.
Unaware of me once more,
They begin to kick at the dry patches of grass in the darkness.
I would like to hold them both in my arms
Because they live right beside me
And their wooden doors stand beside my gated fence
Things are not black and white
I open my car window
And let the light breeze soothe my face
That has become red like the moon
Suddenly I realize
That if I stepped out of my car I would know
Their story.

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