Poem about Hollywood (more to come)

Friday Night At Hollywood & Vine

Between the bus stop

And the patrolling cop

There's a stretched line

Of dressed up women

And impressed men

Waiting to pay $20 to listen to loud music

In a strobe-lit cave.

No more than 10 feet away,

The bus stop comes back into view.

Two short, stocky women who have long been called beautiful

Wait for the Red Line

After working double shifts.

The hospital-bright, glass-cased bus

Will be there soon.

Weathered faces look forward to sleep

As 18 year-olds with fake I.D.'s and 34 year-olds with fake sincerity look forward to sleeping in.

The painfully thin girl in a skin-tight sparkle dress

Walks alone with her arms crossed,

Purse dangling,

Skillfully maneuvering on stilts she saved for Fridays like this.

Maybe someone will think she's pretty.

Maybe she'll find THE guy.

The one who treats her like she's the only girl in the room.

Or maybe she'll just get laid.

Maybe she doesn't care anymore for a dream that's become a fantasy...

...The homeless man with a tattered suitcase of memories

Waits on a bench advertising the sexiness of Vodka.

As the Metro squeaks to an abrupt halt,

The messy-haired, unintentional character stumbles onto the bus.

The driver lets him ride for free-

The only price he can afford...

...Yards away seem like a mile

$20. $20. $20. And that's just for the privilege to buy a drink for $20 once inside.

There go the tips from all your hard work waiting tables, young actress.

Even if it's not worth it, it's the going rate for letting loose...

...Loose is skin of the elderly woman longing for retirement who

Pays a hard-earned $1.25 for every one-way trip back to Koreatown.

She always makes sure to have 5 quarters so she doesn't hold up the line.

And there's always a line at Hollywood & Vine.

The Clubbers and The Riders never make eye-contact-

Just fixate on their destination.

Both hoping.

Hoping to find home,

To avoid a Friday alone.

I envision both crowds meeting in the middle-

Maybe a food truck would satisfy both.

I want these opposites to realize that 

Between apathy and every eye roll,

There's common ground.

Pursue your needs tonight,

Bus-Stoppers and Club-Goers.
Because come Monday morning,

You'll both try your best to hide the fact that you

Look forward to Friday night.