20 July 2014


16 July 2014 
hollywood hills, night

Just now, out my window, I'm certain I heard a pack of coyotes. They do live around here, in the hills.
I swear I heard them eating something, killing it. There was barking & howling & it filled the neighbourhood. It rose from the earth, spiraling into the sky like a dust-storm. Then, there was this screaming. This inhuman, animal scream coming up from something's gut. Coming up from something's terror.

10 July 2014


LA, where are your freaks? Your weirdos? Your artists?
I miss the city where every street bursts with originals.
I miss my city, where one doesn't strive for sameness.

I can't recognise faces here. Each one looks the same, as if carved from hot plastic & shined to resemble new cars in the sun. Where are you, my humans? My loves? My derelicts?