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On some days

after rain’s washed the air

and no soot corrupts a surface,

the LA light hard and bright

as nickel, the world rises

to meet it like a beautiful girl

striding into a bar

filled with men.

On such a day,

you can stand on a balcony

over a turquoise pool

and the stately tile

roofs and tropical palms,

fronds dipped in mercury,

can almost make you believe

Hollywood is just

what it pretends to be.