GABRIELLA

GABRIELLA

.

I’m on the midnight bus

To Los Angeles,

Gabriella,

I wrote a bad check

For my ticket, but what the heck?

Gabriella,

Could a fellow tell you more?

.

I’ll be there soon,

Riding near a full moon,

Knowing that I can’t stay,

Seeing you just one whole day.

.

Gabriella,

I could land in jail!

A bandit needs the anonymity

Of living in the city.

.

The sky is clay, the street is grey

Outside the bus station at the start of day.

Watching all the selves unfold,

Hearing the woman, who spat,

“Fuck you. I speak Spanish.

Watch your language!”, and like that.

To the astonished couple in blue

Who hold between themselves a suitcase or two.

.

She’s crazy say their eyes,

Rising above their dirty shirts

And the young man kneeling with his guitar

And the Navy nurses running for the buses

And the streets a taxi couldn’t find.

.

Welcome to this world of mine.

For a dollar you can park.

.

Gabriella,

You arrive like a smile into my face,

And we breakfast on the swaying pier.

We eat for $1.33 here.

Then two beers and some pool.

The surf is fair, but you’re a fool

To go out with so many surfers there.

.

Gabriella,

Both of us could just grin-and-bear

Surrounded by all these banks

While the bankers jog

And the fog is still in the air

And in my head.

.

133 Long Beach Boulevard,

Do you think that things are getting hard

Or hardly getting on at all?

.

Gabriella,

Not even you, my friend,

Will tell me in the end.

No matter how I spend my daily life away.

.

So I leave you by the moon’s eclipse.

And at 3 AM, when Orion arises, back home

The wind is warmer than your lips’ consent.

.

Things that never happened make me sigh.

.

Now is the hot morning of my discontent

And not a friend has stopped-by.

“Gabriella!”

I cry.

.

.
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.
.
~~~~~~~~~~~~^~~~~~~~~~

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