Hollywood Poem
By Barry Blander
Long sweeping rains
And fleeting figures
Crossing bold streets
Of tinsel glamour
Tiny painted dolls
Everywhere
The air is pregnant
And I smell
The resin of poppies
A parade of
Private dreams
Neon lights
Blinking screens
Pale silhouettes
Sleeping under
The veil of desire
And sometimes…
I see you
Sitting in a booth
In the back
Of the Brown Derby
Sipping an
Endless martini.
Copyright © by the owner.
