Parking Lot

Forget bills and cars
and love and family.
Forget the sad climax,
fuck adulthood.
The truth persists,
We are all naked and surrounded
by each other.
But we look to our backup:
a canned thought of an open road
or a postcard from last year’s vacation.
A poem about escapism.
I rely on knowing I can still leave
whenever I want.

– Los Angeles, CA

20130819_104555

Taken in Los Angeles, CA

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