barking dogs.
silence.
no need to write anything?
breathing hills
as if Los Angeles were on fire during the day
and now its gets to breath and recover during the hard night.
I hear the radio in Spanish
and the barking dogs
the dynamo of caged dogs
the barking of dog language
a yelling of language
a yelling at the moon?
a yelling at the stars?
a yelling at engines?
there is a primal sadness happening to me
outside of the moment there are wild demons
in the moment there is nothing but light
I hear the accordion and violins in the hills
like I am in Mexico or India
the soft light of the lights in the hills
the darkness
the radio tower in the mountain
the stars
things have noticeably settled
and now i can hear the crickets
i'm in the mood for becoming a river.