San Fernando Blvd

by Steven Sandage

Eager to find my footing

I step quickly off the air conditioned bus.

Too young to know any better

of being too broke,

every shop beckons with promise

but sneers with intimidation.

Grease drips from an eight dollar slice of pizza- 

why are the paper plates so much thicker here?

The lobby in the local Starbucks feels quaint-

how does it feel like it exists in the countryside?

If my hometown had a movie theater in the mall it would be packed on a Saturday- 

why is the land of backlots and boulevards disinterested in what they create?

The record store is empty, I tell myself that’s a good thing;

the music scene here must be so alive     

that there is just too much going on to go and hangout at Penny’s.  

Penny’s will be closed in three years.     

Someone once told me

“to contribute to the community you live in is to belong to that community”.

So I buy an album;

more than it would have cost in a store back home.

When you’re over budget by two dollars,

what’s another six?