Tacos
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Stepping out of LAX
The breeze pecks your skin
Mismatched pavement prickled by potholes carpet magnificent mini malls
Ugly urban sprawl becomes a soft bear hug.
Wrapped in tinfoil and paper plates.
The sirens are heard coming from without these four walls which enclose me.
And all I can think about right now is Tacos, it is Tuesday.
It could be that those sirens I've heard belong to an ambulance
When I was younger, I used to think guys
Needed to make me smile
I thought boys completed empty parts
Parts that first became bruised
Tacos are the bomb!
When I eat them I go
Nom Nom Nom!
Tacos speak to me,
They say don't eat me.
I can eat a life time
suppy of Tacos
because I don't like nachos.
