Crystal Magnificent Morning
Crystal Magnificent Morning
You should see LA
In the crystal magnificent morning of continuing time.
It is a magic that has to be seen to be believed,
And yet,
So few have truly seen the show.
The LA sunrise is the unknown movie,
When the eastern sun slowly rises,
And with hot rays searing the air like electric swords in battle,
Baking the Big Enchilada,
Baking those tall high rises
Like big meatloaves in a garden oven.
That’s what I see from here in the mornings,
Here in my Kasbah.
I see all you lost people out there,
Lost as lambs in the dark pastures,
I know who you are.
Don’t think I don’t know.
I know what it’s like to be insanely bored.
I know what it’s like to be depressed,
To be sad.
I know what it’s like to want to die.
I sit up here all day waiting for my girl to show up,
And I imagine
And I think
And I dream;
Dream of climbing mountains above the clouds,
Of getting through Joyce’s Ulysses all the way to the end,
Of taking Norma Jeane into my arms
And staring into her sad lost eyes
And kissing her with excruciating urgency.
These are, indeed, the dreams of a sad lost man.
Green Onions. That’s the song!
Green Onions was playing on the radio that morning.
Booker T. was her last lover…
And not I…
As she reached for the phone.
“Help me, Jack. They’ve killed me!
They have taken my clothes, and my soul.”
Indeed, I know what it’s like to want to die.
“What good is all this?
What good is all this money and fame?
A person works and strives and struggles all their life,
And what do you get in the end,
When all is said and done?
A funeral.
A 1962 funeral with all the trimmings!
It’s not worth it, Piggy, darling.
It’s just not worth it.
Please hold me in your arms.
I am afraid of the dark.
I am afraid of being alone in the darkness of my grave.
Please Piggy! Don’t let them bury me!
Now kiss me hard.
Now make love to me.
I don’t want to be afraid anymore.”
You should see LA
In the crystal magnificent morning of continuing time.
It is indeed a magic that has to be seen to be believed.
Goodnight Norma Jeane.
Good night America.
It is time for another screaming sunset.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
