From Los Angeles to Portland to Los Angeles

This morning was all snow.
But it didn't stick.
Later, hail
fell.
The wind blew the hailstones
at a 45° angle,
it hit my eyes
and caressed my clothes
as I walked to the DHS.

I daydreamed
of warm nights,
of driving on the I-5
speeding south,
through the Grapevine.
Driving into purple dusks
going at least 85 mph;
windows rolled down
music colliding
with the hot, dry wind.

Driving alone, then,
I remember listening to
"It makes me cry to see love die"
But I only thought of driving
home
to be with you.
Just to be with you.

Now as I walk in this cold
I hear again
"It breaks my heart to see us part"
so sad
to watch
good
love
go
bad.

And I think of walking
home
later this evening
to save a couple dollars
of bus fare
to return to
no one
in particular.

Addendum

Yip yip yip yip yip yip

we both used to laugh
at many things together,
laugh and be as one.

Here is a mix (if you want to know what's in it, you have to download it):

http://www.divshare.com/download/6730259-f49

Discounted

Today I purchased
2 forks and 2 knives
from the thrift store
total cost of 'silverware' = $1.00.

I cashed in my customer card at the coffeeshop
total cost of coffee = $0.00
(tip not included and not given).

I went to the Dollar Tree
and was reminded of
the 99¢ Only Store on Pico
where we used to go.
Where I always made sure
to buy
corned beef hash, tortillas, canned jalapeños
and 50¢ PBRs.

We always competed with
one another
to see
who could spend the least
and buy the most.

I never slummed it, honey dear.
That was my life then,
and it is
my life again.

I buy the discount meat
red, green and brown
in the bin
the old crusty bread
that cuts my gums
the mushy fruit and vegetables
most pass over
(even in these times),
total cost = a portion of my unemployment check.

But I am dignified
(like all those others, allthoseothers,
that I never saw at the Farmer's Market, that can't
buy organic, whose chicken for dinner was fed with
the shit and bile of more chickens).

I interview for jobs
and they say
I'm overqualified and they are
suspicious
as if I have airs.
Yes, I am dignified,
because I always do what must be done
(in the end, right?).
Nothing is beneath me.
I have no station, no lot
in life.

And still I live on the goodwill
and charity
of others.
Soon, I will be left alone with my own devices.
Rube Goldberg machines for
each step
I have to take
to make myself
better.
As it always should have been,
I suppose.

And still I will be dignified,
when I have retreated
to the seclusion
of journals newly written
and waiting to be mailed
to anyone who will read them,
who care to laugh
at melodrama created, mocked and rejected.

Will you correspond with me when I am dignified and old?

Exploration

always
while the body prowls
the soul catalogues each step;
while the unconscious unbridles feasts
the flesh knots toward the shore.

From I Have Walked A Long Time by Sonia Sanchez.