Pull-String Angel

Withering persepctive
softened by the damp stained
in meaningful parkinglots
all up and down the coast

The sea/sky line
wrapped in brown paper
& tossed into the trunk of
a late model Chevy

or Cadillac sedan
The lingering sea-mist on consignment
5:47 PM according to the way the
shadows fall across the pavement

in front of Taqueria Las Palmas
where we share maybe 30 seconds of sadness
with a casual glance of downward
I want to say disdain

or is it compassion for the dead