I work on Sunset now
where dreams die and take shape
where highways are twisted at the throat
of the green that once was
sometimes with more choice
comes less freedom
more sugar in place of food
sirens for a handshake
bright lights casting longer shadows
soon the earth will erupt
and reshape the landscapes
in her likeness
to invade the invaders
with mountains for fingers
she brushes the cities
from her brow. As if
to invent a simple fabric
between God and Man
she turns over
her bed