Earthquake Weather
Seagulls circle my Hollywood apartment,
Their errant feathers fall as a turquoise screen dries on my balcony.
I stare at the records on the wall and lengthen the nails behind them,
as if it will help when the 7.2 rolls across the valley and into the 101.
The cross falls on Barham, tourists beware.
as the locals barely look up from their Lattes,
The transplants stand in the doorways.
It’s Earthquake Weather.
Tags: Earthquake, Poem
February 18th, 2008 at 8:10 pm
Jesus is funny. (hope your site will allow embed)
February 18th, 2008 at 8:10 pm
Okay…try the link above.
February 18th, 2008 at 8:11 pm
Third time’s the charm?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jqNhWF6kjnk