|
Parking Structure 4, Santa Monica |
Parking Structure 4, Santa Monica
is all slant and piss.
The residue of rubber, the hot
house scrapes of yellow and red paint
pout like pretty girls alone in a bar with music.
The matte string of paper dolls without
digit appendages
just mustard arms and legs
stand at attention like a mother,
fertile and proud.
This whole place was built to be
forgotten the moment you pay
for the privilege of leaving.
Concrete is golden
height and width in perfect proportion,
worshipping each other
in the way the fluorescents wash the walls
of the elevator.
It slides itself
translucent
under the gums—
desire like plaque,
undetectable until irreversible.
At the top the air clears.
Georgian Hotel, rooftop first and then the rest—
the nativity and even Venice—
grow into sunset and pier.
Pacific like an infection seems to say,
I’m like you, only beautiful.
copyright 2004
Laura A.
Lionello |
