Zaphkiel Avenue

The sun sets o’er the city of Angels,

Silence fills the night. Quiet as a gun-

Shot, another helicopter takes flight.

Sirens and flares burn the skyline with light.

Some who sleep in the city of Angels

Make beds on concrete and black bubble gum.

Worn pages of L.A. Times tell of plights

And quoth progress in letters black as night.

From Bunker Hill to back alleys, rail roads

And benches, not all the angels can sleep.

Underground | Circa 2002
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Michael Ray

Bachelors of English Literature
Humboldt State University.

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More by Michael Ray
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