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Dead Things

Larry Fondation

She didn't like the dead birds and the dead rodents.
     He became more direct, even pushy.

     BUS # 209:
 
     Rowena & Glendale          2:09 pm
     Glendale & Glenfeliz        2:12 pm

     She used high quality lipstick. She couldn't draw straight lines.
     I'm a slob, he said.
     The lights are out in California. On and off, really.
     I'm running for Governor, she said.
     Breakfast was bacon and eggs, and an English Muffin. She meant to say "dry," meaning without butter, but when the waitress came she was silent, so she got the English Muffin slathered in grease.
     He had ordered for her.
     I ask for money constantly.
     I can never get enough...of anything.
     Night-blooming jasmine penetrates the air of even the shittiest part of Los Angeles. It smells like sex, like cum on the bed covers.
     I'll have a double cheeseburger, a large order of French Fries, and a Diet Coke.
     I don't get around much.
     Cut to the chase: Will you fuck me?
     She had landscapes sketched on her tits.
     Western lands and Mt. Fuji.
     The trash built up on San Pedro; somehow the Department failed to collect.
     I drank a lot that night -- I always do.
     I think of her often. Always, in fact.
     Afterwards we wanted to hit the road. No car. The bus.
     Greyhound terminals are both beautiful and sad.
     I disembark.
     Alone.
     I can't live without her.
     She got off at a different stop.
     She was never with me.
     I never watered the plants; I never minded jail. Not really.
     From the observation deck, I can see the City.
     I've never lived here.
     Move along now, the cop said.
     I move on constantly. That's not my problem.
     I picked up the dead birds and the dead rats -- to dispose of them.
     She got so mad at me.
     It didn't solve the problem.
     She re-potted the plants; I still forgot to water them.
     I used her lipstick to draw with -- on cardboard and paper.
     She got mad at me again.
     Regret is the Puritan dilemma.
     As always I moved on, but I never left.

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