we made eye contact from across the crowded,
seedy, hollywood bar.

if that,
a seedy, hollywood bar,
truly exists.

and we talked of the east coast;
our families who we left behind.

and we screamed of our insecurities;
and played off our meaningless jobs.

we got caught up in the magic
of a night without consequence.

if you need evidence
of sloppy,
satisfied sex

than look at the sheets
and the water bottle
full of cigarettes.

but, as i sit on my balcony
soaking up the 80 degree valley sun,
i wonder what i'm doing

pretending to everyone?

but, the jukeboxes in hollywood
play the greatest songs.

and the boozehounds they are avant garde,
the pool sharks clever, the bartenders never
leave you with an empty drink.

and i've been kicked out of bars in kansas;
in hollywood i'm escorted out.

the conversation is of misery;
recession, and homeless uncles.

but, the jukeboxes of hollywood
they play the greatest songs

and we,
well,
we sing along.

03/21/2008

Posted on 03/21/2008
Copyright © 2024 Frank Lee