Whilst Reading Anne Tyler

I was something else

sometime ago.

I know that if I wanted, I could

climb the twelve stairs,

open the battered case and pull

out that day on Venice Beach.

The photo with the Arab skateboarding,

playing saxophone - digging a scene.

I was leather jacketed, Kerouac and shades.

Sitting on rail tracks preparing my cheap

reasons for the years. Needle, nose and numb.

I’m sometime else now. Someone hence.