#143

The dusk's light prisms itself
on the corners of these buildings
that mark the North Hollywood landscape,
make a net of rays, a laser beam security system
that hangs above the city.

Underneath, the farthest stretch
of Lankershim Blvd. lays flat
to the ground, like sun-cracked
tables of the Ten Commandments
and a faded pickup truck cruises by.

In the yard behind the used refrigerator shop,
a guy shadowboxes next to the shell of a waterheater,
a dog pushes a beetle around with its nose,
a wrapper from the taco stand lifts and clings to a trailer,
teenagers stumble as a group, singing Smiths songs out loud.