Lost & Found Angeles

written after time on the West Coast. The idea was to talk of the underbelly of LA while giving it episodic excitement. A contradiction of best and worse case scenario for the idealist.

Looking down as we step through The angels

where the air strangles & everybody got a angle

gangs tangle, the PD is seedy leaving you bleeding that's just how the game goes

 

Playing in the landscape that man makes, it's massive, people are fast but passive

Tragic kingdoms made of magic, six lanes of traffic

the wretched stretch from Downtown to the Inland Empire 

to desert cities where the block's on fire

 

the land of stress and hard luck 

Panda Express & Starbucks... don't get it twisted

 

The suburban sprawl you saw

distract you from the urban decay & murder rate you didn't witness

because you believing in media that lead you to a 30 mile zone

Angelina got another Angelino in her limousine to bring home

 

the rest of us chasing provolone, rat racing for cheese to pay rent

state holds 9% of every dime spent

 

Our money don't say "In God we trust"

our dollars holler God is missing,

with a picture of the Terminator politicking

 

Everyday is judgment day in the Golden State

withholding your faith & controlling your fate 

few are true, and when you roll with the fake

it's like a noose that makes or breaks you 

 

Enough rope to rescue or put your neck through

LA will chew you up and reject you,

No mercy.

The sky don't even cry

This is what we step through

Chasing the Hollywood magic of Police Lights. Candid Cameras. Action News

Legs swollen from the pursuit of celebrity ideals attacking you

Sense of accomplishment on a White Bronco joyride

Gridlock collision with Plato’s ideal you

Drown in the “probably could” until kicked out for adult swim in the carpool lane

“You all are the same” says the Hollywood sign. Looking down like Big Brother.

Rationed superficiality. Believe in NO OTHER.

On the road to nowhere in a constant rush. Graffiti over the rust. Constant Lust.

Seduced by the Jungle’s Welcome.

Seldom friendly...

Greeted by guns and roses in Paradise City

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

a gritty look at the underbelly of a decaying city...it starts out like the beginnings of a cancer and then spreads.