Dirty lights travel

Dirty lights travel

In holy unison

Outside the cabin’s window

Dweller’s sleep and twist

In padded seats

And quilted shirts

That sustain

Little comfort

But offer

A lifetime

Of sweet

Fragrances

Of freedom

Its “Hope” east of Hope St.

And tragedy south of Hollywood’s promises

Zombie meth lovers out hunting for some coke and dick

Take their last breaths on the crooked red line

Where Jim Morrison’s ghost haunts the hills of Harper Ave.

Reality tv shows

Of Suicide stars

Perfecting the gram post

Never knowing brunch ended hours ago.

Bottomless Fame east of Sunset plaza

And west of Hollywood’s smashed promises.