Vanessa Matic is back with a new, sultry poem set in downtown Los Angeles. Read her previous work here and read her new poem ‘Downtown LA Lovers’ below.

DOWNTOWN LA LOVERS

It was too terrifying to go down to downtown LA
all alone. Near skid row, a zombie infested chaos
of dead dreams. My diamonds in Lana Del Reys
Cola tune. I just arrived last night, it was quite cold
outside. Good thing I had my leopard jacket, it’s the
right temperature inside of my layers. It’s almost as
hot as hell when I haven’t said my prayers.

Crawling into the black limo. The palm trees
scattered along the high way tossing their long
leaves in the air. They are like golden vultures
towering around the city, all around it.

My driver and I talk about soul and music.
About some cars and bikes, power;
And some common sense.

I’ve slept quite well, ate cookies and had some
alcohol. Took off all my clothes, jumped up and
down on the bed naked just for a giggle. Before
going into the shower, I turned off the welcome
on the TV,  set my laptop up to watch some movies.
King of New York, To Live and Die in LA, both I had
already seen. Then new layers all white for the sleep
cycle.

And before Rick could say ”First you rip me off,
then you set up Carl, now you want to fuck my
lady?” I was passed out, must have been the jet
lag and booze. But I felt great; Woke up around
10 AM LA was bright. The building across reflected
lights in the night of my window view. Which had put
me to sleep like a tranquil disco ball. I was wondering
what it was, the light; And I am wondering again today.

Maybe an angle?
That’s what he would call a reflected light..

Anyway I’ve been waiting for this future lover of mine
to come by so we could speak some poetry. I don’t
know why I am here, must be poetry like Bukowski
or am I going to end up like Hunter in Fear and Loathing..
Only not in Vegas but Downtown fucking LA. What
a day so far.. No it’s probably because the lover, I
shouldn’t mention the brief creepy way we met at
Bowery. Then suddenly I am here waiting like I’ve
known the lover all my life.

And maybe I have..
Maybe we both saw each other in a dream.
I believe in tons of things, so that seems real
to me.

Either way, I was never in this situation but I’ve
been in many situations. So why not? Life’s a
storm anyway, so I say. We can only take shelter
in love, sometimes even hate but I prefer love.
Since life’s storm is short, short, very short.
We should believe in childish things that we
endure our foolish nature to contradict our
thought by the friction of our hearts beating;
For the gust of wind found in lust and passion.
Platonically syncing a dubious romance.

To stop all my imagination I went down to have
some eggs and bacon. There was some guy in
tight attire he was handsome watching me like
in a movie scene, trying to talk to me. Maybe it
was that languid leopard behavior I’ve heard about
that was rubbing off on people, as I sat or strolled
by. Either way I feel so odd like a ball of rubber and
I could possibly bounce up and down.. I could perhaps
but that could hurt. Cement and objects aren’t things
flesh could repel well, but neither is our attraction.
A psychological damage, paraphilic paradise dusted
in romantic gesture of poetry.

So I sit almost like a fly on the wall but instead the
wall, my bed. And in a few minutes I will go up and
down the street just to watch the people repeat.
Then again after some Tom Waits I’ll be real gone,
so gone… I won’t come back to Downtown LA but in
LA LA land where lovers walk hand in hand.

”Do not be grief-stricken by my words and imagination they are
merely about you. They are a mere platonic collision, they are a
gesture of frail made and failed romance. A poetry of heart felt
whispers to be given to the wind that howls our name.”

by Vanessa Matic