TH (August 25,1945 / Plainwell, Michigan)

Hollywood,3 A.M.


Bits of newspaper
and the tattered remains
of porno pictures
blow across the pavement
flutter in the 3 a.m. wind
a lonely taxi cruises
empty streets
discarded flyers of
forgotten rock and roll bands
fall to the ground
and cover the sidewalk
like autumn leaves


Hollywood,3 AM.
all night diner
a Styrofoam coffee cup
sits on a folded napkin
circular stains round
its bottom
a jelly donut in the
display case
the door is open
and everybody here
the cripple, the beggar,
the homeless, the thief
and even though they
have never met
they still know
one another with the
unerring knowledge of
all late night diners
and people who were
ever too poor to buy a meal
unread newspapers open
to the want ads
wait the dawn


Hollywood,3 AM
walk of fame
stars line the sidewalks
with the names of celebrities
from a bygone era
and those who walk these streets
with worn out shoes
who do not even recognize
many of the names
immortalized beneath their feet
sleep in doorways
or on the sidewalk
covered up with cardboard
or wrapped in blankets
like shrouds
haunt the dark recesses
of alleyways and deserted
they say, “do you have any
spare change, mister? ”
“brother, can you spare
a dime? ”


Hollywood 3 AM
between buildings
along driveways
and across parking lots
floodlights direct their beams
along light corridors
carefully monitoring
all activity within their radius
and transmit their information
to other vigilantes, agents,
operatives and police organizations
by means of high pitched
variations of the light frequency
phenomena that should be
happening all the time
becomes most pronounced between
between the hours of 4 a.m. and 6 a.m.
observing them in a
red tinted mirror
discovers further activity
otherwise undetectable
when the surveillance
helicopter flies overhead
everything gets crazy
on the roof an unrecognized
figure is seen climbing up
wearing infrared goggles
and carrying a two way radio
he won’t be there when
morning comes


Hollywood 3 AM
nobody on the street
just an old alley cat
arching his back
he says “me-ow”
go home you old alley cat!
and two or three guys
on the corner selling cocaine
as we approach, they say
“what do you want? ”
“what do you need? ”

User Rating: 5,0 / 5 ( 2 votes ) 2

Comments (2)

Hollywood - A most interesting 3 A.M....or any other time!
this doesn't really move past the cliche ideas of three a.m., perhaps the only fresh details are the surveillance descriptions and that part of the poem seems the least finished. This poem reads well-there's just no oomph in it.