Hollywood Poem by Barry Blander
Hollywood
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.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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8/11/2026 11:56:36 PM # rel_20260811T123139Z_a98d49b
