Poem by Theresa Haffner : Hollywood, 3 a.m.

city with high-rise buildings during night time

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 buildings 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 unrecognizedfigure 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? ”

Poem by Theresa Haffner: Reality Doctor

3 poems by Theresa Haffner : word decyclotron, word underworld, Dwarka

2 poems by Theresa Haffner ‘Room 203’ & ‘The Black Stars’

By davidlonan1

David writes poetry, short stories, and writings that'll make you think or laugh, provoking you to examine images in your mind. To submit poetry, photography, art, please send to feversofthemind@gmail.com. Twitter: @davidLOnan1 + @feversof Facebook: DavidLONan1

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