Alice Pero

LA Sun

 

Out here in LA the sun has buck teeth

and half-shut eyes

He looks at reflections of himself all day

in Bel Air swimming pools and flirts with

starlets dressed in neon pants

Mr. Sun cares not for the broken umbrella spokes

and curses thrown in his direction in his absence

He would rather dip dizzily into a glass of white wine

and breathe heavily into clouds, not caring whether he

was able to get through the cloud cover or not

Weather is “other” determined, he says

I should simply shine and shine

And so he does, clumsily shining on forever

 

 

 

Sun in the City

 

When Sun comes to the city, he clicks his heels,
taps a percussive rap, lights up a rant
Sun splits up streets, tries madly to melt ice,
cries and whines when he can't make it all the way down
the subway stairs
Bums collect him in cups, click-clack sun-coins together,
for show, then waste them on coffee and booze
Sun loves dogs, but only will warm cats through windows,
ignores pigeons, then gives in and smooths their feathers
Sun follows lovers up to their front steps, caressing their shoulders,
then stamps his foot when they slam the door in his face
He skitters off to play with children in the park, shouts at snow,
whispers in poets ears
They become golden, shed coats, sit on benches in a trance, glow

 

Sunland Rain 

 

Here in this little town

we get sprinkles

small drops on the pavement

Cacti turn their heads in scorn

 

Dusty path in the wash

barely has a touch

Boys tell each other stories

with dry sticks

Sunflowers nod and bow

 

The wind is quiet

We sit inside the house

throwing bets around

about baseball