IT'S FOUR TWENTY


after a meal of black and brown rice, garlic marinated
chicken, two bananas, a mango and tumbler of nam cha,
i leave my home

west to broadway, south to and across slauson and
on bus 745 where i take a window seat near the rear.
a video monitor plays a car insurance commercial then
yesterdays news and weather report

two short chubby teenagers dressed in gothwear board
the bus at washington boulevard. they seat themselves
in front of me and after a short conversation in spanglish
the girl in the aisle seat takes a cellphone from her friend,
flips it open, pushes a button, waits several moments
then loudly says

" hello is this chuy? that fucking loser chuy? ha! ha! ha!
i heard that little gringa bitch left you! ha! ha! ha!
no!! fuck you!!! i hope the puta gave you aids and you die
you fucking loser!!!! "

she flips the phone closed and bursts into laughter with
her friend

i exit at the grand central market stop, cross the street,
walk a couple of blocks south and wait for the bus 720.
after fifteen minutes or so it arrives. i board and sit
opposite the middle door. somewhere past vermont
avenue i fall asleep and don't awaken till the bus comes
to the 405 freeway stop

waiting in line to exit is a middle aged filipino woman.
she looks at me as if studying a bronze sculpture in
the getty museum. suddenly she smiles, revealing
gold capped dentures. from her sweater pocket she pulls
a pamphlet and hands it to me before exiting the bus.
it's titled "jesus saves". i consider dropping it onto the floor,
but instead stuff it inside my fleece's lower right pocket

finally in santa monica, i get off the bus at fifth street,
walk down wilshire to ocean ave and use the elevated
concrete footpath to cross pacific coast highway.
as it's cold and a fog bank is a short distance offshore,
i zip up my fleece and place my hands in its pockets.
after a urinal stop i trudge across the beach and place
myself cross legged on the sand near the water's edge

because of the chilly weather there are very few people out.
waves lazily come to shore and recede while seagulls
and other birds cry out and compete for any scraps of food.
i partially unzip my fleece and fish a philly blunt and
lighter from my corduroy shirt pocket. a few slow
deep draws later the chill seems to disappear

i notice a youthful looking woman coming towards me.
stopping a dozen or so feet away she stiffs the air. she
walks over, sits besides me, and with a goofy happy
smiley look says

" hi my name's victoria, but call me vicky,
would you like to share? "