the edge of summer is always rougher in down town the garbage cooks in the hot August sun and the mango pits baste in the pigeons’ bath water but i can’t help to be in love with the complex and undeniable lived in beauty of the city
as soon as i step into the lobby i see Mr. Petrucchio’s grand daughter with a mile wide smile because granpa will be moving in with them today i agree the Cecil is no place for an aging refined man or anyone else who didn’t have the junky sickness or the negotiating with the devil credentials
half of my life has gone by although i count my birthdays in dog years so old in my soul and experience but too young in some circles a gen x’er with no money too many bills the last of the missing generation child of war birthday cake candle blower outer low brow collector little girl but i still have me rickety cracked me
sitting in my bed room with my cats and dog we laugh and talk as i finger bang the keyboard i think about smoking a cigarette but i don’t i miss the Cecil the old Cecil full of the residue of Adam’s sin i miss a phantom childhood you know the one where we become our parents’ parent yeah i’m not bitter i got to play with real barbie dolls mainly holding their hair back in my mom’s bathroom when they were throwing up too many cocktails diet pills and i guess too much cock that made them pregnant who knew i was just seven
its August 2019 the edge of summer again its rougher now we have placeless people stewing in the system stewing in the tents waiting for a breath of help the Cecil has cleaned up mostly serves to house tourists looking for the LA experience i shy away from their questions like where’s the best Mexican Food where can we find parking how much are you asking for a blow job baby and being me i have to answer back i’m too big to fit down your throat sweetheart i’ve learned to disarm some but not all yet i love my city it’s my home and she’s disarmed me any way she’s wanted to my sweet Sensei i’ve been a good student though she can’t deny that
where has life gone and my summers and popsicles hot dogs and fireworks on the fourth where has the magic gone i’ve missed much so the Fall is coming along with the adverts of pumpkin spice everywhere the new Fall collections the new laws that question the very validity of what the Gods have created and the pangs of sadness come but also the reminder that life goes on in spite of decree or tears or me i’m learning to love something greater than the world at long last hobo girl i say don’t worry you can still smile a mile wide
words less spoken 
This may be your best, to these eyes anyway, if not so much these ears. Personally, the lack of punctuation still rather irks – and, perhaps, that is the point. Hey, ho. The third paragraph though, is loaded with enough bullets (‘birthday cake candle blower outer…’ etc) to bring down an ace! Good work/play.
PS: Is there a stash of punctuation marks somewhere?
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Thank you, Mr. Reeves. As for the punctuation issue, I’m afraid I will have to create two versions. The grady for WLS and a version for the awesome Mr. Reeves. What day you, sir?
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By the way, no nope no punctuation lol thanks for your undeserved praise love your work!
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I enjoyed reading this piece. I looked up the Cecil, LA and was intrigued to read it is a real hotel/landmark with a chequered history of suicides and violence. You describe it so vividly. Nicely done.
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Hi yes it was colorful to say the least I’m trying to write from my current adult perspective and also through my then adolescent perspective. Thanks for reading 🙂
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I was re-reading and noticed “The Cecil 500” title just above the header. I clicked on this and went to an “oops page not found”. Was this to be part of your blog?
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Yes but I’m reworking every thing so far there’s only four Cecil shorts seeds is the first one
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What a grand place to house memories. I am in love with it’s aura. Were I still in Cali I just might drop by….
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Bucket list visit for sure❤✌
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I’m not the least bit put-off by the lack of punctuation. When I’m thinking to myself, my inner-voice doesn’t force a full-stop or question mark into my stream of thought. The breaks are intuitive. Thanks for including this week’s Twiglet prompt into your piece.
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Thank you Misky. I liken my writing to taking of a tight work uniform off after a long days work. Liberating… ❤✌😉
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IMO, punctuation is not always needed and in this case the lack of makes the piece a masterful work of art. Bravo!
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thanks for reading my work Eugenia. but i do use grammar otherwise at work, letters, notes etc. 🙂
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I truly enjoyed your poem! I don’t always use punctuation in my poems, however, I use it in my other writings. Poetry is a form of art and should be written “your way”!
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🙂
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