#2 History is dead! How do we find meaning In a world that feels meaningless? I drive across Roscoe to Valley Circle. Make a left Go past Bell canyon On the way to the 101 towards Ventura. I head down the Freeway and get off at Las Virgines heading for the coast. I enter the belly of the canyon. I rise up out of the soot of the valley And into the Heart of the Canyon. The landscape is transformed Into a panorama Of Rocks and Hills- Grandeur and Beauty. I descend gradually Towards the Pacific. I long for it Like a lost lover. I cry for the breeze To wash over me. It cleanses me. I am blessed. I know in 10 minutes I will see The Pacific Ocean In all its glory and splendor. The naked lifeless trees Have a tender beauty to them An elegance And a grace. They are a ballerina at rest. The sunlight cast a shadow and a light symphony That filters Through Their arched branches. They hold All the secrets Of the Universe. Hours pass Apartment buildings with pools That no one swims in Where hardly Anyone speaks English Where I march invisible Unnoticed down the streets. This is AMERICA. America the lost. Pay day loans Checks cashed Flat country Block after Block Cal State Northridge No hills Few trees Hot Blistering hot A no mans land Winnetka Desoto Indian Tribes and then Chats worth. Seven and Eleven's 99 cent sores Tucked in every corner. Another few moments Of my life Tick bye. Stephen John Kalinich © 2003 All Rights reserved