Los Angeles...

by Jennifer Gravley

...becomes condensed in memory, becomes black cow eyes, becomes the seed-choked jelly of the spine, the 10 a thin thread pulled through thick smogscrapers, barrio to ocean. I drive us as on a magnetic track, hot and bright as any first time. You can't help but look. We wade through a thick hotel lobby to the glass wall where ocean overtakes sand — see the living shells! Ambitious creatures attach to the glass and suck; when you lean in, they suck the ends of your hair. Suddenly, I remember: everything sad and hungry I, autogenous, brought into being.


Jennifer Gravley's recent work appears online at 400 Words, 21 Stars Review, and Triplopia.


golfwidow said...

That's interesting. I've never been to L.A. and never heard it described so uniquely. It gave me a little more insight, I think.

Quin said...

la is sad and hungry... i am not a fan, and this six reminds me why.