i miss Hollywood
i miss being yelled at by strangers
and hikes through canyons thronged with trash
and little dogs yapping like the animate turds of coyotes
and the coyotes themselves,
allusive with attentive eyes
staring wonderfully at all the deadbeats traipsing up and down the hills at 2pm on a Wednesday, like
don’t you fuckers work?
i remember when (the coyotes say)
people risked their lives to touch the very dirty of this land that your poodle is pissing on,
they fought to defend it and buried their dead
beneath what is now a tattoo parlor across from that Mexican joint on Sunset and La Cienega with the greatest flautas in the world.