La Brea and Willoughby

from my work in progress book of essays

little me

red, white, red, white, red, white

i am small

but I don’t know it

head dipping way back as i stare up at the sign

The La Brea Circus

at La Brea and Willoughby in Hollywood

red, white, red, white, red, white

stripes up and down the entire corner building

it doesn’t look like any other building on the street

it’s special

red, white, red, white, red, white

a grand thrift shop famous for its

cheap goods

and the big-faced

clown on the marquee

I wasn’t scared

not yet

of clowns

the clown’s candy apple nose

as big as the sky

neon metal outline high above

grown ups rush past me

they don’t matter though

because I can smell the hot dogs

for later

and my mother’s perfume

she takes my hand

and we

enter the world of things

some things we will take home

i head straight to the stuffed animal bin

where i find my teddy bear with a missing arm

it’s the only one i want

it was love at first site

The La Brea Circus is for me

here,

i can find what i need

here,

i can find what needs me

here,

i can hold close

the cute,

the soft,

the sweet,

here,

i can take what is broken

and love it anyway