angels

the sidewalks are just there, you don't have to follow them. you can sit down on one say 3rd and vermont and find your happiness in a taco truck feeding the only actual angels in this town- the mexicans, and watch a family, the kids and all, have a saturday night dinner and jealously think, i wish i was that- i wish my life had me eating on the sidewalk with my whole, whole family on a saturday night instead of feeding some drunken munchie craving or fighting that mental reflection of how do i look how will i look to them and her and her dreamering less shimmering faded eyes in the splashy neon night of a thousand perfume scents and mints and anything else to cover up that human stink we're so ashamned of. or sit, and share a common scent of asada or al pastor with the ones you unashamnely love. i wish sometimes, i could be eating tacos on a saturday night with my whole family, my whole family of angels, unaware, and genuinely o.k.