Snowballs and Whores On Sunset Boulevard

my tank is empty like a

confessional on monday. i hate the thought of stopping but my

left brain is kicking my head real hard.

real damn hard.

there’s a chevron on sunset and crescent heights,

you know the one.

its actually on the laurel canyon side,

but the thought of that windy snake of a road

annoys the hell out of me.

so shut it.

i havn’t had dinner and its well past

midnight.

so with the gas i grab a bag of hostess snowballs. twinkie’s red headed

stepchild.

slip the cashier seven dollars and say,

“the rest on pump 5.”

i just need to get

home. plus my wallet seems to be anorexic

as of late.

while my toyota greedily gulps down the

unleaded cocktail,

i pause,

to look at this strange deserted corner lit by the incandescent glow

of a smiling mcdonald’s sign across

the street. the wind howls. a car drives by.

the pump handle clicks a click at me but i’ve already opened my

feast. first things are always

first and with a shrug i bring the sugar mound

to my lips.

“lookin for a good night hun?”

just like that my meal is interrupted.

“i’m sorry?”

i quickly glance towards the voice and it belongs to

a woman.

i knew i shouldn’t have chose the pump closest to the sidewalk

and that syphilis contracted bench.

“what you sorry for sugar?”

she has hair like a broom, skin like coffee, and

is wearing a dress

four sizes

too small which

encourages rolls of flesh to try to escape their fabric prison. Its

some sort of animal print. leopard or cheetah

i think.

she smiles at me. a sort of sad, accepting smile.

she has

a gold tooth that nods and tips its hat at me. and a

piercing on her upper lip.

“don’t know.”

i shrug.

“you don’t want nothing do you?”

her smile fades as the breeze whistles by,

catching the words

from her mouth.

i looked down, thinking: this city thrives on

rejection. it’s lifeblood.

and i,

am no different than these cowards

and thieves.

“i’m starving. you?”

i reach into my plastic bag and offer her my second

snowball.

there’s that smile again. there’s that

tooth

waving at me.

we stand there looking out on

sunset boulevard

as the wind howls and the cars

grumble, and the

bums bum. wiping pink coconut and sugar off

our lips.