LOS ANGELES: Judgement in the Park

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LOS ANGELES: Judgement in the Park

You've got a tiny ass kingdom, 
with some water and a tree. 

"I don't know where you are." 

1911 in L.A. 
In New York. 
In Calcutta. 

And all that time and space.

LOS ANGELES: Judgement in the Park

Sweet paradise huddled up against 
the Golden State Freeway, 
super state flee away, 
solid state circuitry 
jammed against the limits 
of sensation, the quantum mechanics 
of knowing something more 
than quantification. 
The blood's speed 
through the veins. 
You make me want to breathe. 

"Have a good time." 

Have a good time. 
A good time. 
Good. Time. 

(Play kazoo.) 

Is the planet 
merely arriving 
at whatever second 
life is revealed, 
death is revealed, 
what may be foreseen? 
A rowboat, a raft, 
a piece of flotsam, 
in an Atlantic storm. 
In the hurricane of re-entry. 
Underneath the fire, 
the many blue miles, 
the quantities of darkness. 
Even in the middle of 
nature contained, 
that little bit of organized 
spontaneity in an urban park, 
where a plant seeks memories 
with its roots to that place 
before the million footsteps, 
before the spoken and unspoken, 
after the silencing of creatures 
who licked the red off their lips. 

(Strike a gong.) 

We look up into 
the air conducting heat, 
waving the arms of its winds, 
the gusts blowing from its lips. 
And there will be 
the horns of Judgement 
from the billion tiny mouths 
of insects. 
Wings climbing back 
into the sky. 
Headed as far as possible 
from this imagined world. 
And we who could love so much 
seek to soak ourselves 
in the color of hunger, 
as if we would starve 
if we only knew better 
how to love. 
If we only knew better, 
and we do. 

So play this song 
for those who will 
have the benefits 
of all our errors. 
We became silent 
after being buried 
together with 
the brightness 
fading from behind our eyes. 
Even then, we remembered 
how often we enjoyed 
so much about where 
we forever were. 

"I don't know where you are.... 
"Have a good time." 
A good time. 
Good. Time. 
(Beat the drum.)