my russian neighbor is beating his wife again
he screams like a little bitch
but she keeps it calm
the Hollywood night is once again flowing
with wonderful minacious sounds
helicopters, sirens and car-alarms
a lonely cry of lost love
whores do their nightly runway walk
their stiletto heels clicking and clacking
down the filthy sidewalk, outside my window
all the party-people
porn-stars, models and studio-executives
now intoxicated, they harvest the anger
sowed by traffic-jams and deals gone south
in the heat of the day
the russian is yelling again, hitting
she is calm
"shut the fuck up!", shouts my room-mate
it gets quiet for a while
long enough for me to fall asleep
to the sweet smell of jasmine
at least Hollywood smells good
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