New Poem: HOLLYWOOD

in 1932, she walked into Bullocks Wilshire
bought the best she could afford
then stood by the studio gates until chosen
>
days of learning how to talk, how to stand, how to diet
posing for publicity photographs
coerced into coitus by men who say you have to say yes
dress extra, bit player, supporting actress, star
marriages to leading men who wanted other stars on the side
>
even with a support system of friends and employees,
there’s constant pain, a yearning to stop this nonsense
>
then the contract runs out—make way for others
>
one day after the war,
she’s arrested for speeding down Topanga
after that, B pictures, TV series, then retirement
>
they buried her out in the back
of the church known as
Our Lady of the Cadillacs
>
in 1989, she walked into Beverly Center

Poetry Audio: ANOTHER SCREENWRITER’S LAMENT

Revised Older Poem: HOORAY FOR HOLLYWOOD 2004

Hilary Duff sings “let the rain fall down”
over the public-address system
as I walk through the courtyard
of the Hollywood and Highland shopping center.

It’s a beautiful day.

I cross Hollywood Boulevard and there's
Gandalf the Wizard (or someone dressed like him)
talking to members of a crowd
staring at the front of Grauman’s Chinese.

They're waiting for the stars
(Rebecca Romijn-Stamos and Greg Kinnear)
to arrive at the Chinese for the premiere of GODSEND.

Everyone in Hollywood seems genuinely friendly.

The aspiring rapper passing out copies of his CD single;
the waitress who calls me “honey” at the California Pizza Kitchen;
the young man who gives out free passes to Jimmy Kimmel Live;
the silver-suited elderly evangelist who smiles
when he says that I run the risk of going to Hell without Jesus.

My days are spent wandering through Hollywood-
seeing the “modern” shopping areas surrounded
by grunge and occasional disrepair.

Nights are consumed with watching DVDs
on a portable player in my room
at the Hollywood Roosevelt Hotel.

So far, I’ve seen 20 movies-
everything from the grandeur of GIANT
to the schlock of WIN A DATE WITH TAD HAMILTON.

One night, I meet the ghost of Montgomery Clift,
who stayed at the Roosevelt
when filming FROM HERE TO ETERNITY.

Fortunately, the ghost is the young and beautiful Monty
from the era of RED RIVER and THE HEIRESS,
rather than the Monty ravaged by drink, drugs.
and a near-fatal auto accident.

Monty’s ghost stands a foot away from me.

He smiles at me, says “Don’t be afraid” and disappears.

I return to my room,
wondering if I heard a warning or a benediction.