1966
The wind unfettered
in the cypress branch
the sea’s great heart
alert
in all of us
is meaningless
and noise like this
in honor of it
meaningless
So why
stand on my
cracked hillside here
pledging a smear of sun
the last gassed palms
flying over Silver Lake
allegiance
When I could
go back in and
put the coffee on
get myself ready for work?