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Daily Poem – Hollywood

October 26, 2014

Under the long green hair of pepper trees,

The writers and composers work the street.

Bach’s new score is crumpled in his pocket,

Dante sways his ass-cheeks to the beat.

 

The city is named for the angels,

And its angels are easy to find.

They give off a lubricant odor,

Their eyes are mascara-lined;

At night you can see them inserting

Gold-plated diaphragms;

For breakfast they gather at poolside

Where screenwriters feed and swim.

 

Every day, I go to earn my bread

In the exchange where lies are marketed,

Hoping my own lies will attract a bid.

 

It’s Hell, it’s Heaven: the amount you earn

Determines if you play the harp or burn.

 

Gold in their mountains,

Oil on their coast;

Dreaming in celluloid

Profits them most.

 

Hollywood Elegies By Bertolt Brecht

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