In Los Angeles, something is always burning.
As I drove down the Cajon Pass into your great alluvial basin,
a deorbiting hunk of metal burned white throwing off a plume of gas across the desert sky
streaking over 8 lanes of midnight freeway traffic.
As I flew into you one winter, whole mountains were on fire. Long lines of
conflict and oxygen and heat advancing across the oversteepend rock.
I could see the firetrucks and foil-wrapped firemen, and
watch the swimming pools boil.
An ode to Los Angeles' chronic brush fires, cheap sensuality and scalding aggression, Always Burning is a shining exception to the rule that internet poetry is utter shit.
The author, Everything2's Igloowhite, penned another of my favorites: the equally well-named Happy Birthday From Planet Motherfucker, which relates the tale of a civic terrorist's window-to-window hunt for the domestic television.
In Los Angeles, Something is Always Burning [Everything2]
