I’m behind him
and he doesn’t know I’m watching him.

This is one of the good positions of life.

He stands making a moment of himself
at the overlook fence
at the Griffith observatory.

He gets that Ahab look on him
and pans his whiskery visage
like a lawn sprinkler
and grips with steely knuckles
the fence that separates
him
from the view of L.A.
as if the wind and rain were beating
and his vessel badly fated
and the sun
wasn’t shining gaily on the tourists
in the vicinity

one of whom just said

now I don’t have to be funny again for another year!

But I didn’t see anyone around him laughing-

two of whom are the old ladies
that I joined on this bench

and one of whom is me.


I’m actually lying a little bit now though. I was there for the view too.

Can’t say what it’s like,
so say “the view of Los Angeles”
and fail.

“Los Angeles”
is to fail.

I guess I already knew this rule
when I sat down ,
which is why I chose another’s blindness
as my viewing’s subject,
and settled on the bench
to commence failing through him
which is more comforting
than going to the fence to look myself
and there playing out
my inadequacies of sense,
as always.

On the bench, I fail through him
for a while.
Then I pan left
away from the viewing-man
and there’s the fucking Hollywood sign. That means leave,
so I walk back down the dusty hill.