haiku at LACMA

where i learned to see beauty in the boxing paintings of george bellows

where the day was bright & long & green

where students sat on the floor copying the masters

where i knew somewhere near bukowski was living & writing

where the coolest dude i would ever see sat outside 

dressed in black jeans black button-down shirt & motorcycle boots

where music & line & color opened a trapdoor under my feet & mind

where still, even right now, i am falling in love