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essay: #049: Sunset Boulevard Tuesday.

< The Strip >

Scene One

Clock says: 11.56am.
My body says something different.
From one continent, to the next.
Surfing this international dateline.

Cocktails, pills and Nada Surf ballads.
ipods and eye masks.
Limited alcohol.
And by the way,
"No congregating in groups allowed, folks...."

13 hours later...

Houston lady, seated to my right, new best friend.
Motions to First-Class slumber ahead:
"There's a difference between the have and have-nots in this world, girl..",
God love her.
Keeping me sane, like this.
She, soaking up life in the autumnal fast-lane.
Me, just along for the ride.

* *

Sinking into the fluffy white clouds.
Beneath the wings, now.
Only the sound of the engine.
And a heartbeat.
Gliding through this space, time continuum

* * *

Scene Two:

L.A. Customs.
Border Patrol.
Declarations of Intent.
Not in Kansas anymore, daddy.
Department of Homeland Security Agents.
Some perfunctory, while they digitize your fingerprints.
Others sweet, "Hi, ho...Love the T-shirt, and have a nice day, now..."

Cab drivers happily commentate.
While levitating taxi 3-feet from the ground.
"Sorry for snapping your spine, mam.
But have a great holiday, anyway!"

Love this Freedom.
Love this Liberty.
Love the man who bade me here.
Hiding behind an airport column.
Asleep on his couch...

* * *
Scene Three: Four Days From Now...

I will count.
Eight planes and three helicopters.
As the sun sets over the rooftops.
Here, and in the now.
In this City of Architecture.
And eternal sunshine.
Human and otherwise.

# transmission ends #