the others who go toward regret
become the pulse with flame
ignore all but the fm stations
back home
maybe there of delongpre
or other east hollywood addresses
like mine where the actors stayed
or the playwright upstairs
or the casting director and novelists
some moved for coppola paid the rent
others like me a slow burn with pills
a waltz in smog patios
a grasping for the rest
earthquakes turn on riots
and some wonder if 34 years
is enough in one town
34 years
i searched for that answer
in a western avenue bottle
and claimed winner to lose
the time to leave
to kiss the lipstick
to wave goodbye to home
our minds break down
like boxcars
thrown off somewhere
in the desert
the silence
the hiss of wind
a rusted beer can
not knowing which way
to turn
not knowing
the insidious nature
of water
not knowing the tricks
we play
on ourselves
only crashes
on the highway
and you
serve as brothers
when decades
no one remembers
float by
in wrecking yard shine
a bushel of wheat
left
or rising between
floor boards
doesn’t mean
service
or business as usual
since growth
can’t be measured
by car exhaust
or the hitchhikers
on the highway
Lawrence Welsh has published four books of poetry, and his work has appeared in more than 150 national and regional magazines and the book Das Ist Alles--Charles Bukowski Recollected. Most recently, he won The Fourth Annual Bardsong Press Celtic Voice Writing Award in Poetry, and his work appeared in The Spring of Nine Hazels: Tales of Celtic Heritage, which received a USA Book News Best Books of 2004 award. In 2005, Pitchfork Press will publish Walking Backwards to Santa Fe, his latest collection. Photo by Richard Baron.