for Peter
Remember the day you almost died
in that disco in LA;
or how, the next week, we climbed
those sharp hillsides,
dodging snakes and God knows what,
hauling ourselves up through the smog
into the double Os
of Hollywood?
Not owning a camera then
makes sense,
as I think back
to hidden days:
cruising to siren choirs
on distant freeways;
trailing Mulholland at night
in love with the downtown lights;
brunching at dawn at Schwab’s,
acting lost scenes from “Sunset Boulevard”
and “Day of the Locust”;
half-drowning at Paradise Cove,
as we took on the Pacific;
then, half-way home
on 101,
our last spare burst;
makes sense,
as I think back
to hidden days:
cruising to siren choirs
on distant freeways;
trailing Mulholland at night
in love with the downtown lights;
brunching at dawn at Schwab’s,
acting lost scenes from “Sunset Boulevard”
and “Day of the Locust”;
half-drowning at Paradise Cove,
as we took on the Pacific;
then, half-way home
on 101,
our last spare burst;
Or when,
burnt-out round the pool
in Burbank or Van Nuys,
dining on Coors,
our pot-luck finally turned:
sneaking gourmet-garbage from bins
by Valley stores;
panning Venice streets for crumbs.
burnt-out round the pool
in Burbank or Van Nuys,
dining on Coors,
our pot-luck finally turned:
sneaking gourmet-garbage from bins
by Valley stores;
panning Venice streets for crumbs.
Everyone needs to eat, they say;
so, just the other day,
when I called your house on stilts,
high over Cahuenga Pass,
and you answered - for once,
I knew from your voice,
despite its claim
to sanity and fame,
no matter how far we ride,
hunger for moments lost.
the best and worst of times,
is all we really had
and have
to guide us.
so, just the other day,
when I called your house on stilts,
high over Cahuenga Pass,
and you answered - for once,
I knew from your voice,
despite its claim
to sanity and fame,
no matter how far we ride,
hunger for moments lost.
the best and worst of times,
is all we really had
and have
to guide us.
I certainly do remember the "O" adventure at the "Hollywood" sign. I was so surprised at how rickerty it was, but I always feel a bit of pride and ownership when it flashes up on some screen. Great memories
ReplyDeleteWhat I remember is front seats at the ballet, listening to the one good Phil Collins song on that album and you returning to England, supposedly to marry Iris or whatever her name was. I am forever sorry I ever met you and even sorrier for what I did. Thankfully, I have been married for 38 years and have two grown kids - because of you, actually, so maybe I'm not so sorry. "...the best and worst of times / is all we really had / and have / to guide us.
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