Finding the Past in the Detritus of the Present
Claire Scott

The past is never where we left it
for sure on the corner of Castor and Vine
next to the kiosk where una donna anziana smokes cigars,
sells newspapers (often yesterday’s) and gives
Perugina candy to the children who stop by
              buona giornata she says, patting their heads
but the kiosk is gone, a tatted man in dreads hawks hot dogs
              two for five, free soda
the names of the streets have changed
              La Brea Avenue
              Aliso Street
a new traffic light blinks green-yellow-red as cars
blast Immortal Technique and Ghostface Killer
apartment buildings stand shoulder to shoulder
like sentinels, casting shadows over sunny streets
how can I find the six year old who cried
when the teacher said there is no such thing as a blue wolf
who cried sitting on the curb next to the kiosk
sucking a piece of lemon candy
I want to tell her about Picasso
so she will pick up her paintbrush again

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