reporting live

from the depths of hell. it seems san bernardino is a burning fury once again. while the saint ana winds whip around the embers the people flee outward in a panicked madness. the skies are spotted with pillars of smoke. the savagery of man tears from the soul of the meek as brothers and neighbors battle in the street and loot, breaking windows, shooting guns, crying to the dear lord as helicopters soar overhead recording the apocalypse. a swarming, breathing organism of fucked frenzy has escaped from some subterranean holding cage. the flames lick the air as they dance from one dried palm to the next. if we leave our car and run, we might never make it alive.

sundays

the clouds rolled in, with an impending sort of look to them. as if we should all lug of the storm gear and galoshes, hunker down for the floods, and so on. yet nothing came down from the sky. no rain, no tears, maybe soot, no snow or hail or even a mist. just clouds darkening our days like they had a grudge on the sun. fooling us all. it's going to be a drought, for quite some time they say. it's cold outside for once, but probably not for long.

Dead City Revisited

We circled the dying city at night. The monolithic buildings hung under the empty sky with such a sorrow it broke my heart. The clock tower told the wrong time, yet it still ticked away keeping track of a day and a moment that was not ours. As we entered a seldom visited building I couldn't help but feel sorry for us all. The vacant buildings mirror the vacant lives of the Inland Savages. We came across a man sleeping on a ledge underneath a doorway. This dormant person was a massive giant, his body spread across the ledge like a fallen oak. We rode through the empty parking lot on our boards, in the distance we could hear the faint cry of music. There was no running of engines, or screaming people, or honking horns, but there were the soft notes of a siren song. We raced to find the music and claim it as our own. As we came down the hill the music grew louder. We came up to a tall light post in the middle of the barren parking lot. Through the loud speaker a melody was playing. We were the only two souls who experience this song. The sun was long since down and no would shoppers come to this lost market. We listened to the song play and stared up into the starless night. "This town is dead," I thought to myself. A thought that still resonates, even now.