Up in the Foothills
a moth wing
impaled on a cactus whispered
it saw my shoes
dogged by a pack of dust
in the unforviging hideaway
of the sagebrush.
a moth wing …
i don’t know but
when the Chumash prayed
in this now-White place,
they didn’t see thousands of cars
or the Burger Kings
down below
in the ‘San Fernando Valley’
they .. .what can i say
about what they saw or tasted
when they partook of
(what we call) Jimson Weed?
a vision beyond ‘this place’?
a sip of some sacred fever?
‘this place’ of constant commericals
and money and property
that will not, cannot, shall not escape
the shallow cruelty of LA greed.
==========================
Los Angeles, circa ... 1990
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