"century"

"century"
remembering shadows by jake kilroy.

the shadows of l.a. climbed her dress
like they were begging for mercy,
while the moon stumbled across the sky,
awash in the bourbon fumes of below.
what was sacred was burned
to the slow hum of a trumpet,
as the wet evening came to a fiery end
with long cigarettes and glowing teeth.

this was noir taking a nap without nightmares
and the slow motion gaze of a city's longing stare,
as men hulked through the halls like monsters
and the women slid their eyes like demons,
with everyone dressed like angels and saints
reading magazines in the waiting room of heaven,
wishing the wonderful wasteland had a casino
and skinny dipping was still a good secret.

i read her body cover to cover
and the sighing breath of los angeles
kept me up as the neon whispered through the blinds,
and i tossed and turned and found sanctuary
in knowing there was another day
ready to beat its way into me
and i could sleep another night.