You were supposed to come for me.

You were supposed to rise up out of the Santa Ana dust

palm trees swaying

gale force winds pushing

windows breaking

glass hearts

closing blinds

pulled in the darkness

where I sit

and I wait

for a man who doesn't exist.

It's just like She said.

You must be dead.

Rolled over and pummeled at 3rd and Accidental

by the 316

you were wearing green

while the Driver made the red.

Now in a coma

at Kaiser Permanente

nothing is permanent.

You're a blip

on a machine

and on page 13

of the Times

That We Never Got to Have.

But I know you will come for me

with your long brown

hair swearing

mouth sexy

501 Blues

low slung

well hung

walking down from the mountain and into

my love.

You will materialize

in the cracked parched LA air

sunshine blinding me.

You will materialize

while I wait for the light to change.

You will materialize

while I wait for the check to come.

You will materialize

while I wait in line at the Five and Dime.

You will materialize

while I wait for the phone to ring

for the ba da boom in the bing

for the elevator to ding

for the Diane-isty in the Ming

for the pong in the ping

for the za za zou in the zing

for the Reverend Martin Luther King

I will wait for the Fat Lady to sing

Because it's not over for me yet.

My soul mate has just been detained.