"STOP REQUESTED"
she's my city and i love her madly like
only a rare few can, understand
she has seen my ups and my downs
and she is royalty,
she keeps me sane and her streets
share stories that tell a tale
of mass movement, motivated bodies
travel, so many that
i will never meet a majority
but still i thrive in the city
turned metropolis, gone megalopolis
that has nurtured me since childhood
where my feet have walked down
sad sunrises, silent sunsets
silent like early morning or late night bus rides
that let me know we still
have a means to go
but hopeful like
the stranger that walks into
the bus with a smile and a conversation
and breaks alienated silence
with working class conversation
this is my queen and i defend her
to me she is one big bus ride
like so many others on the front lines
we work towards a better future
i am on the bus
and i don't mind breaking the silence
she's my city, and i love roaming her
streets she's my one true love
and this love is not always pretty
but i find myself finding new adventures
and i fall in love all over again
i dig for the smoothest
most elegant structure of words
to describe a distant yet congested
thought and i find myself thinking
" organic intellectual,
over rated academic
and i am somewhere in between"
from bus stop to bus stop i go into you
and head to your glamor only to always
catch the bus back to my reality
we are co-dependent and incurable
and just like the tired souls
the student, the worker, the wanderer,
the migrant, the hustler
off to work, coming from or in the middle of
my queen, we meditate at the sight of life
i see in you my grandparents
Los Angeles
a migrant story
new old home
unorthodox activism, practice over theory
constant revolution
mad love, ocassionally
some fall asleep on the bus ride and miss their stop
worn out from routine
but this pespective is privlige
i wake that person up and say,
"hey buddy, we about to reach the end of the line,
hope you havent missed you're stop"
but more often than not
it's me that's being woken up
taking a courtesy ride back to my intended stop
life continues,
working class, not intended for all
very little glamor
and i love it, my queen I Love it..
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