THE SMOKE OF LOS ANGELES

Fills up the sky in funnels of fumes and heat,
sprinkling its tired civilians with a layer of dust
a mask of resignation through the hustle bustle.
It chokes up our throats as we mutter, scream, cry, fuss
wait for the bus, hail a taxi, rip through a sandwich,
or beg for spare change.
In all walks of life, we wallow through the same filter
cough, wheeze, rasp, hawk, spit—
a war above the concrete jungle we can’t fight or escape.
All a user of the same substance,
we pay tribute as wielders and recipients:
breathe deep, and don’t exhale until the city turns you black.

This poem is included in The Sophomore Year Experience poetry compilation.

Advertisements

About Amy

Amy is a freelance writer and artist based in LA. Her hobbies include romanticizing her world, having too many moody thoughts, and wandering through neighborhoods she's never been in.
This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s