Injured (Like California)

Los Angeles was a chance, a retreat.
The army of cars sounded like firecrackers,
or security.

The rain somehow escaped.
The hideout was flight: the highway
a drug, a prison.

California was injured– a people debris.
The mountain was a wounded relief–
the face of thunderstorms.

 

(originally published in 3by3by3 – October 18, 2015)

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