Thursday, March 08, 2012
The first blue line was packed so I got off on Grand and waited for another. The second train was filled with the fetid funk of the unwashed homeless. A ragged straggler with sores on his face babbled his scabbed lips. LA reminds me of the Walking Dead. At the green line transfer, the sun was setting radiantly on downtown LA. The city shimmered golden in the refulgent dying light. The horizon was tinged pink above the already darkened mountains that ring the city of angels. Traffic sped west while the easterly winds shook the palm trees in the other direction. Out the paneled flat screen window, the moon rose high and thick, high above the purple cloudless night. Sure beats sitting in traffic.
Posted by Paul Rockower at 12:09 AM