LA Lullaby

By Kelly Grace Thomas

 

Tonight the cockroaches giggle at this barefoot walk for peace

across the shards of overweight similes.

A city that compares its orphans to stars

is not sure where to call home.

And somewhere the pigeons assemble with pregnant complaints

of how the homeless have taken their drive-thru ordered dreams,

scavengering for a chance of catching some change

in the night air.

Above it all the palm trees survey,

hands in pocket, slur on lips, apathy in their fronds.

Even on a cloudy night, we all fight for our slice of injustice.