Venice on the Second
it’s twenty eight hours shy of July Fourth,
in Venice, by way of the 10 freeway,
and the sky groans in its sleep
with premature fireworks and
electricity running relay races on telephone wires.
In this city by the sea,
in the parking lot of a Ralphs,
a homeless dog is tied to a shopping cart collector
and alternates saying first, “Save me,”
but then “Go away.
I listen, eating a peanut-butter cup
I’ve gotten for being a good boy;
sit on the hood of mother’s Toyota Sienna,
which both looks and drives like a whale,
and after considering the dog’s requests
I turn to him and reply
and he hushes-up and lays down
until he’s picked up by a man
who isn’t a homeowner either.
Bio: I am a 22 year old, Native American, college graduate from the Los Angeles area. I have been published in In Somnis Veritas, Creepy Gnome, and will be in the upcoming editions of Carnivalitmag.com as well as California State University San Bernandino's newpaper The Coyote Chronicle.
Some people would rather you stay with the abusive boyfriend
who demanded seventy-five hundred dollars
in return for your life
who bought you birthday gifts with your money
because he’s a chivalrous motherfucker
who put a cigarette out on your face
since the ash tray was full.
God would rather you use your soul
to carry around demons
like an old suitcase
Pastor would rather you batter-ram your emotions
into a sardine can
on the tip of a pinhead.
But let me tell you
who you are is fine with me.
And let me tell you
the caged bird doesn’t sing.
You’re a peacock, not a parrot
so let your wings breathe.