Ode to West Hollywood

The hunched-over old black woman cackles mightily

A crazy laugh that controls her whole being

The sewer grates burst with cigarette butts thrown away

By a crowd who cares nothing for your naïveté

I stroll among the muscle boys, who, half dressed,

Talk loudly around me about looking for some ass

The city of West Hollywood clutches the night

The car alarms sing a discordant melody

The looks of the men in the bars are not right

Their heads full of ideas and not one is good

The boulevard of dreams has become a trail of tears

As long as you are away, this city has lost its charms

That Sunday night long ago, do you remember it?

The long walk, the words, the pretty view

My word, that evening seems so long ago to me

And I wanted so badly to hold your hand

I smoke and dream of you, my head heavy with alcohol

I do not want any more of these frivolous people

I want to get out of here, throw myself into life

But this memory of you keeps me from ever escaping