A Blob In The San Fernando Valley Poem by Raj Dronamraju

Hang around with people I don't really like
Drive around for miles in cement decadence
Hold court in distance, each freeway exit is like a foreign country
Here's your border and on the other side is quivering jello

Commuting an hour to work each way every day reduces your intelligence
And the girl with the angry breasts releases you for an orange juice
Pay the admission at a metal cage to see her dance upon the stage
That is not pleasure, it is pulled back and hateful

I arranged to meet a real person in front of Northridge hospital
Then I drove around in confusion, desert and ocean and blind panic
I fidgeted and wobbled but I did not collapse, the mold held true

Hanging around with people here is not the answer
He touched her face with E. Coli fingers
I paralyze and push and end up laying on artificial turf