HOLLY WOODLAWN
MANHATTAN 1970

With her turkey straw boa
and a secret sign
of those who love her
like today's Lady Gaga
half-alive,not washed up
waiting in daily
nightmarish bars
for Trash to make
her famous
I spy a Bette Middler
look alike,
a guy next to me
is full of benzedrine
and cold cream
planting fairy dust
from his Hollywood playhouse
nourishing a bagel
tells me he knows Andy
and can get me in the Factory
but maybe not get me out
I defend Holly
as an American goddess
as I defended May West
and Lana Turner
even as drag queens
at the stag parties
out West
among the trappings
of the elite
with my uncle near me
to watch me among friends
who will live and last
only in my poems.