Sunset Boulevard

How we said we'd never change
even if we moved to Hollywood.

Still the faucet would drip and the
clock would pant like I do on my runs

around the block and back.
Yes, I would wear more black and perhaps

your music would be more glamorous but I'd still
look the same when I sleep and you'd still eat

those Pop Tarts by the box, and those girls under
the florescent lights, those curious creatures...

How I said I'd never leave as I pushed
that big black car down Vine, sometimes.

You spoke of your vices through the glitter
that this city breaths instead of air and poisons

without second thought. That director sent me letters
from Brazil, though we had not danced

in years, and when we sat the Formosa,
there was nothing left to scream about and

we walked out. Yes, this I recited when we
walked side by side in that intimate stride-

My hate belongs to daddy,
your heart to Dizzy and Parker,
these nobodies to Sunset Boulevard,
this woman, this woman, to the avant-guard.