Cobblestones (poem)

As I left your apartment
I began walking
on the cobblestoned night sky.

Driving on the 805,
you had closed your eyes and grinned
"Rollin'--"
shaken your head
"Rollin'--"
and nodded your feet.
"Rollin' on a river"

At the beach, a cigarette dangled
from the cave between a young woman's lips, and blood
smoke spilled out my window.

The sky had erupted, spewing lava
out onto the street.  "Are we lost?" you said.
Leaving the parking lot, a woman
fingered me with her face, which resembled a rare steak.
"No, it'll just take us longer to find it."

The light on the sea was gum stains
on your North Park sidewalks
behind the fishing pier.

"What's that over there?" you said.
I said that leads to the bridge
and further, an overlook.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .     Go
far enough, beyond the moon's glow
cloaked in stone clouds
and you will find in the darkness a road
paved with starry Light.