should he and i have met
on some sun-drenched sidewalk
in the city of angels
it’s easy to admit
that my younger self
would have better suited
his tastes
with my former predilection
for bar stools and beer
and a favorite four letter word
often heard
within earshot
of another pointless charade.
but walking in his footsteps
long vanished
from unfamiliar streets
bleached beneath
cloudless skies
and oppressive heat
it was easy to feel his weight
in the face of a homeless man
camped one block
from highland avenue
where hustlers hawk tours
and souvenirs
to bright-eyed tourists
who somehow seem to miss
what’s real bleeding
through the cracks of a tinseled,
paper-thin veneer
which holds
this place together.
