newport avenue at midnight

let's see if i can do this in a good way

i'd like to express without too much in the way of sarcastic jackal-ing
my growing fascination with the immense alienation that has come over me
the last few days

it would be easy to lampoon the sometimes-exhausting
customers at the suburban strip mall
in the wealthy neighborhood i work in

or discuss the perhaps-more-pertinent
proximity of this city
to los angeles

but let me just document tonight's walk down newport avenue

_______

fairly tight danceable reggae band

at the portugese place that lost its alcohol license
and turned itself into a private club
where you sign in

with a name like say
joe gendarme

(with apologies to joeg@hotmail.com:

the doorman said they just needed a last name
he didn't say they needed mine)

even got a decent dance in with
a lithe female

before the sound got too harsh and loud

i finished my warmly-served corona
to go get my ear plugs

from the car i'd driven two blocks from my house

so that i could have the mando in the backseat
in case i wanted to walk and play on the beach later

____________

on i walked past the five or six bars at the beach-end of the block
where despite neon lights and crowds milling about

there is nothing ever going on

at least for me

arriving at the beach
i noticed a few people walking from the south

and looked up to realize
there was a whole scene going on

on the long pier
that is considered such an OB fixture

and having neglected to heretofore
strode directly to walk its length

_________

very cool watching the waves roll in
from above them

i felt some welcome depth of connection
observing the undulations arising

from seeming deep water stillness
to crash like a thousand cymbals
on the shore

i saw many fisherman
ignoring single-pole stipulations posted

casting neon-green LED-bobbed
lines into black midnight waters

i enjoyed the intense focus with which
one removed his ringing bell
to manually work his reel

_________

some twenty minutes later
i arrived at pier's end

and finding a spot between the lamps
peered west into the dark mists
of the pacific

never have i seen such colors

it would be more accurate to say
lack of color

texture or depth

an immense emptiness

floating shades of grey and black
with no perceptible horizon

a deeply welcome reminder of the existence
of things unknown

a site so compelling in its
very sensory deprivation

it was as if to ask me:

do i exist?

_______

walking back
i was nearly hit by a fish

a trout someone was flinging up onto the pier
just over my head

and i realized the purpose of my coming here
is yet to be determined

it will be colored by working with this very alienation

by coming to understand it
and by whatever actions i take in the coming weeks

to reckon with it

_________

back up the block
past the beatles tribute band

and the sax player on the corner
toward my car

where i could hear the reggae band still jammin hard
and driving home two blocks up the hill

where as i turned in
was pretty sure i could still just make out the horns