Los Angeles, Time Unknown

City across the water, night by violet aurora Los Angeles, we're further south than I thought (than we should be) I take a strewn-bark trail to get a better view Hand me the camera, Polaroids in quick succession (when is this?) It's not quite capturing it, never the depth of field we need Daybreak (remembering, there's no bay in LA) Scores of Chinese workers emerge from pores in pagodas Hauling, cleaning, young mean men, old pig-tailed women, children too small to see clearly Faces are rusty, resolutely worn I can zoom in but can't get there from here Night again, back on the trail A man appears from the palm brush behind Could pass for a 1930s Okie hobo; faded salmon shirt, crushed felt hat Something in his beard He just wants to feel the lights and see the palms Gunshots, on my side of the water Okie flees, I hear whispers, overlapping This is good stuff, though unnerving I should be writing this down Ushered from the scene, to somewhere I didn't expect to be