It’s that time of the season when
the devil opens her mouth and out comes her hot breathe, spewing out the hot
air, the hot death, leaving us feeling parched and searching for lotion,
chapped lips and red eyes, can’t tell if it’s the California weed or dust being
kicked up into people’s lives.
The mini tornados spin the leaves, the hot wind blows the trees, scorching the temps making autumn season leave.
The high wind temps has everyone on caution, because a few years ago these winds left my whole valley atrocious, uprooting trees and downed power lines, you came a little late, December 1st I remember...
In my bed trying to sleep and all I heard was a howl ruffle my sheets. My windows were closed and you manage to seep in, pushing at 95mph hour you fucked with my sleep wind; your air rushing my body with positive ions made me want to sin, the anger that you bring and the chaos that you cause, no wonder that year you scared away Santa Clause.
The mini tornados spin the leaves, the hot wind blows the trees, scorching the temps making autumn season leave.
The high wind temps has everyone on caution, because a few years ago these winds left my whole valley atrocious, uprooting trees and downed power lines, you came a little late, December 1st I remember...
In my bed trying to sleep and all I heard was a howl ruffle my sheets. My windows were closed and you manage to seep in, pushing at 95mph hour you fucked with my sleep wind; your air rushing my body with positive ions made me want to sin, the anger that you bring and the chaos that you cause, no wonder that year you scared away Santa Clause.
That year you left thousands of us in the dark, unprepared you didn’t
care, you just gunned through our canyon passes with despair.
Los Angeles, we are not use to such extreme weather, we like our sunshine and 75 degree weather.
You introduced us to your dark side something we don’t see, we’re use to the ocean breeze and palm trees by the salty air sea.
You kept blowing and you didn’t have your usual hot air this time, you brought a cold front with you that chilled our spine. The first day without power we did ok, until the temps began to drop and we felt no heat, you had us in our living room shivering under our sheets, 39 degrees outside and it was only 8p.m the temps were going to drop low that night but you were long gone…
the air was still and the stars were bright, they twinkled, they were so pretty those stars at night, they filled the night sky and forced us to think, no television and the lack of cell phone usage was down, we couldn’t use the internet because we needed to charge but without power that was going to be hopeless….
some people had generators and you could hear the humming from some houses, but the eerie dark nights and the bright head lights was all that seemed like life…Santa Ana you bitch with your mini hurricane wind speeds, you selfish little bitch not thinking of other’s needs, don’t you ever come back with your heartless intentions, but every year you come back with some heartfelt convention, to blow away all of our smog in this basin we live in, to make air quality better and our sunsets ridiculous, to make our mountains look bold and stand strong for our visitor’s, which puts money in our pockets, I guess you’re good for our business’s.
Los Angeles, we are not use to such extreme weather, we like our sunshine and 75 degree weather.
You introduced us to your dark side something we don’t see, we’re use to the ocean breeze and palm trees by the salty air sea.
You kept blowing and you didn’t have your usual hot air this time, you brought a cold front with you that chilled our spine. The first day without power we did ok, until the temps began to drop and we felt no heat, you had us in our living room shivering under our sheets, 39 degrees outside and it was only 8p.m the temps were going to drop low that night but you were long gone…
the air was still and the stars were bright, they twinkled, they were so pretty those stars at night, they filled the night sky and forced us to think, no television and the lack of cell phone usage was down, we couldn’t use the internet because we needed to charge but without power that was going to be hopeless….
some people had generators and you could hear the humming from some houses, but the eerie dark nights and the bright head lights was all that seemed like life…Santa Ana you bitch with your mini hurricane wind speeds, you selfish little bitch not thinking of other’s needs, don’t you ever come back with your heartless intentions, but every year you come back with some heartfelt convention, to blow away all of our smog in this basin we live in, to make air quality better and our sunsets ridiculous, to make our mountains look bold and stand strong for our visitor’s, which puts money in our pockets, I guess you’re good for our business’s.
Santa Ana without you, Russell Crow
couldn’t hang glide, but the hate that you blow raise our crime rate and
suicide, the violence that you spew was a mystery to me, I often wondered how
could the wind be so vicious to we, we, we often see the dark on the moon side
when the yin and yang shift LA’s happy when you arise, your negative aspect to
the county of angles, has a slight obsession to our dia de los muertos
celebrations, Halloween, all saints day, the time of the year, when the windy
wind blows and Santa Ana’s is here, when Santa Ana’s arrive, our economy will
survive but a few will sink from the bullets that she provides, she gets in her
position, locks and loads, her humming sound and the compact of her wind
unfolds, seeps into your mind and change your whole mental vernacular, the calm
become distorted and the angered become the restless-less, days become warm but
the nights are feeling relentless-less, the eccentric Hollywood scene becomes
filled with more recklessness, a little dabble of fear, sprinkled on top with
anxiety, smoking weed in the wind hoping the cops won’t incite a riot, the
arsenals sitting back waiting to start a fire, setting ablaze to Malibu hills
the job of the pyros, as the winds pick up speed the fire starts to spread,
black smoke in the air and the fire fighters ready for war, sirens BANG
throughout the city as the chaos uproars, sirens BANG through the city as the
violence explodes, as the tyrants unfold, the norm starts to change, the sound
of the wind makes everyone un-tamed, the wind blowing my mane, as it narrows my
eyes, my dry skin and parched mouth arises my pride, it entices my competition,
changes my composition, cutting people off on the freeway and switching lanes:
my acquisition, for instance, the winds need to leave right now, before the
whole city falls and we don’t need that now, we need a little bit of rain to
calm this down, look up in the sky and the clouds roll in….the winds calm….the
air still…the firemen are starting to see white smoke, the police shifts are not
extended, Hollywood nights are not as stupendous, *CLAP* thunder rolls…..the
rain starts….. Santa Ana dies….she disappears……it’s back to normal……we made it
through……until next year my lady devil….It’s that time of season when the devil
opens her mouth and out comes her hot breathe….
The Rise of the Phoenix
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