Agua de Jamaica

dyes the pale mannequins
over the boardwalk 
a vibrant cali red.

It runs down
the naked torso
of a woman statue
on windward circle
while sunburnt tourists
snap a selfie outside
the Butcher’s daughter.

Shirtless Z-Boys
mash up jamaica leaves
in the middle of Abbot
with their skateboard wheels.

Jamaica rain sweetens
the overcast,
it fills up backyard pools
after skating in them all day
broken hip bone
scar tissue stamp
Hecho en Venice
Born X Raised
on Suicidal Tendencies
Oakwoods and fences 
& Cycotic Youth
screaming
fuck the cops!

against the sunset

over the shoreline

In 76,’ a more hippie version of me
with salty lips,
drenched in sand,
would carry Momentum
Volumes
Peace Frog ‘45
Ghosts of Venice West
in a paper bag,
taking the 33 south.

Old blood stains the roots
of the palm trees in Venice
red are the arms of luxuriant chairs 
in the Lincoln Fox Theater
and red are the eyes roaming
its discount store retrofit.

Across the street,
their idea of fun
under the anglo sun
was to turn Patricia’s house
into a trendy Wurstküche.
Particia Sanchez needed a cure for her cancer
not a bier garten in her front yard,
(you’ll find five-star reviews 
but no obituary
when you type in her address)
But westside punks still believe
in boycotting and they know
the best beer
comes out of a liquor store fridge,
Cold can in hand
Scanned,
IDed,
wrapped
in black nylon
to a parked RV
on Venezia Avenue.

Philomene
guides me through
dulce canals of jamaica,
she shows me the west coast
bathed in sangria / high on
sugared memories
and sweet sweet thoughts
flowin through our veins.

Eat cheap teriyaki 
on the soft foam

The ocean foams at the mouth.
We rock the sunset

roll the red sea 
and drink it away.