No Refrain

I've run out of reasons
To come to Pasadena in daytime
To ladder up the L.A. River
From my temporary home
Long Beach with its fractured numbered streets
And its cleaved community centers
Gardens of hope and damp flowers
Ferns, fraud fauna, the sweep of history

So I rolled out of that parking lot
Turned right on Colorado and proceeded west
Past Allen and Hill, stopped in the street space
Between the record store and the racist restaurant
I realized that once that decision was made
To go with leather over microfiber
I had no need to come to Pasadena
Before sundown again
That's when the poker games and the arthouse films begin to bloom
No I'll stay down by the water
Writing operas and editing bibles
Counting cargo and capturing malice
Before it spills out the bottle

I've run out of reasons
I've spent too many seasons
Waiting
I feel the end will come
On different roads I'll run
Sad ballads will end with no refrain
And we'll dance into our own hall of fame

December 9, 2009