Bleach

Something about the way the light is in Southern California.
Something about the way it bounces off the cheap facades,
the grandfather cool, the googy designs. Something about the
way you bake, standing on the asphalt burned transparent by the
spotlights. It's all hour light casting black pitch shadows where
you lose it all.
It bounces off dirty buildings and vagrants, it rolls through
gutter piles of needles and dreams before stealing your face,
leaving you,abandoning you,a remainder that can't be recognized.
A basic unit ready for reprogramming. Trial by fire, trial by despair.

* Bleach is what I saw, bleach marks on fabric.
Onto patterns byzantine with internal logic
expanding, collapsing, intertwining then
eradicated by the annihilation of color.
Bleach. This is what is happening to us,
we are becoming similar, same, identical
empty. Bleached. This is how I felt out there.
This is how it ended for me.