Edit of "This Town"
This town stands on aged and ruined legs,
calling its beauty out through pursed wrinkled lips;
prickly pear tongues purring empty pink moment promises.
this Ojai Oasis, such a beautiful place to go to die.
These mountains, they loom like overprotective parents,
holding chloroform palms over young mouths,
Sunny southern California blindfolds -
who cares if the kids are hurting
soiled fingers stuck in ears anticipating something dirty
Hear no evil
See no evil
Speak nothing if you're under thirty
know your place,
shut your face,
pull your pants up
turn that shit down
why you always gotta be so loud?
button that up
button it to the neck
tighter, I can still hear you breathing.
In fact, shouldn't you be leaving?
don't you have some white dragons to chase
some shattered dreams to freebase?
we already locked up the purest, so
rather have you poppin pills since you're just
obstructing the view of elderly Los Angeles tourists.
Sweep you under the rug, make it easier to step on the poorest
But I'm calling bullshit on this false paradise
searching for a pulse in veins drier than the Ventura River
a breath of life in this ghost town surviving on antique shops, rookie cops and celebrity sightings.
But it's here, this faint heart beat - here in this candlelit cafeteria,
surrounded by the black and white faces of the past we have the future right in front of us.
when I sit at the table with these kids
these Monday Misfits,
Shangri-Lost young people
struggling to find a purpose in a town
designed for retirees and weekend money,
My heart staggers and lurches; a bit off time, but loud enough to echo in my ears.
When they speak, through voices shoved back down their throats by
people they've trusted the most, I hear lightning bolts and steamrollers;
pain ripped from the lowest parts of their chest and held out gingerly like a mended wing
they read from smashed phones and iPod screens, crumpled papers and shaking hands.
All I can say is hold on.
Your voice is all you have; it's your lifeboat in this sea of indifference,
your battle-axe; your backbone; your fucking Obi-Wan Lightsaber
Hold on.
Stand firmly in place; shout to dislodge the hearing aids
We are not this Southern California doldrum,
this Ojai
We are not these palm tree wooden stakes in hearts
These arcade arch cages
Hold on
and Dream louder than your surroundings,
dream further than this county
Dream till your feet touch down where they were meant to be,
where your life feels like yours, your voice sounds like yours,
echoing off walls that feel like home, not prison.
Hold on,
This town does not own you
This town does not define you
It only holds you for a moment,
it will let go -
so will you.
When you do,
please enjoy the fall.
I still haven't landed -
I'll let you know when I do.