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

Poem: TRAJECTORY OF AN ACTOR (Long Version)

Grow up in New York City.

Meet a lot of interesting people

on both sides of the law.

Go to a screening of THE GODFATHER PART II

in the Bronx.

Look at the actors on the screen and say

“I can do that!”

Take life savings and buy a one-way bus ticket

to L.A.

Work as a fry cook at a Santa Monica Boulevard

burger joint.

After a year, quit and take a job as a waiter

at the Hollywood Boulevard Hamburger Hamlet.

All this time, take acting lessons.

Get typecast as a gangster.

Play a gangster on episodes of HAPPY DAYS

and STARSKY AND HUTCH.

Rejoice in practicing the craft of acting-

even in tiny roles.

Yearn to break out of the gangster stereotype.

Go on an audition for a low-budget drama

about drug addiction.

Perform the audition scene brilliantly.

While performing, notice that the director, writer

and casting director aren’t paying much attention

to the audition.

Become angry as they laugh it up.

Leave the room.

Get fed up with Show Business.

Go back to New York City.

Join the Teamsters and work as a truck driver.

One day, wake up and see a vision

in front of the bed.

It’s the God of Movies, saying

 “It’s okay to be an actor again."

Return to L.A. with wife and children.

Audition for a supporting role in a Big Studio movie-

as a gangster.

Win the role.

Make the movie.

Win all sorts of awards-including the Big One.

Get a new agent.

Move family from Woodland Hills to Beverly Hills.

Make three movies as a leading man-

use newfound clout to play "normal" roles.

Writhe in agony as third starring movie flops.

Become disappointed when leading man offers

are now only from independent companies wanting

the gangster character to appear in teen comedies.

Take the offers.

Make three more flops.

Wail in despair as no more 

movie or TV roles are offered.

Move family from Beverly Hills to Agoura Hills.

Retire from films and make money raising horses.

Wake up one night and see a vision by the bed.

It’s the God of Advertising, saying “It’s okay to

launch a career in TV commercials.  The agencies

love former Big Stars who will work at reasonable

prices.”

Realize that son and daughter are approaching

college age.

Appear in a series of commercials for Metamucil

as a chronically constipated gangster named

Charlie Mezzo.

Forget about the joy of practicing the craft of

acting and give an awful performance.

Become depressed when the director, crew

and ad reps applaud-because they wouldn’t know

real acting if it bit them on the ass.

Return to your trailer between setups.

Go to sleep.

Dream of childhood stickball games

on the New York streets.

Smile.