Poetry / Ode to Los Angeles
I see it from the plane
Los Angeles
Twinkling lights
Home
Mountains in the distance
The harsh gray concrete
Home
The sound of rushing cars
I smell it while sitting in the taxi
The cool crisp air
Mixture of ocean and smog
A slightly sweet artificial smell
that makes you want to inhale deeper
Home
An addiction
Los Angeles
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This is plain and simple. Home, the next frontier, the american dream. I like your flow, though linear and narrow, without much decoration, it fits. It’s a city, and an idea, but not much more. Kudos.
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