A Broker's Poetic License

By LESLEE KOMAIKO

Feb. 4, 2002 12 AM PT

SPECIAL TO THE TIMES

There are probably a few local real estate brokers who dabble in poetry. But how many of them look to downtown real estate as their muse? “I think there’s a minority of one,” says Ed Rosenthal.

Rosenthal, an independent contractor with the firm Grubb & Ellis who has brokered mostly historic downtown properties for the last 20 years, is the self-proclaimed “broker poet.” “I do introduce myself that way to half the people I meet, even my clients,” says the 56-year-old Culver City resident whose poems, with few exceptions, follow strict structural forms such as the villanelle, sestina and pantoum (which he taught himself, in a rigorous course of home study).

Rosenthal’s history with poetry goes back a ways, as evidenced by his sixth-grade report card, which he just recently unearthed. “My teacher, Mrs. Moon, cited that I had developed an interest in poetry,” he says. Later, he says, “from the time I was a young adult, I was always writing love sonnets, rhyme poems, stuff like that.” But it wasn’t until a few years ago that he started writing about downtown real estate, those involved in it, and the many issues surrounding it.

“What happened was there were some critical choices that had to be made downtown about four or five years ago,” Rosenthal says. “One was, should downtown go telecom? I was one of the opponents to that [so] I wrote the poem ‘Pluton Zone,’ an analogy to the myth of Persephone and Pluto. I started to look at these telecom buildings as being like hell because there was no life in them, no people in them. I suggested the whole of 7th Street was becoming like a dead zone, a pluton zone.”

The other choice, Rosenthal says, involved Broadway and what to do with it. A poem titled “Exhortation to the Barons of Broadway” followed. “It was an exhortation to urge these people to get their act together,” he says, “to clean up the facades and make Broadway a beautiful place.”

Not all of Rosenthal’s poems are what he calls “critical poetry.” There are also tributes to different characters, like Tom Gilmore, the developer of many historic downtown properties. Perhaps his most interesting work, however, falls under the “practical” category. These are poems he uses in brokering deals.

“There may be a [poetic] notice, an appeal, a request, and all of them are practical. I use my imagination to inject some humor and insight into the situation.” Rosenthal doesn’t write a poem for every deal. Rather, he says, “they’re usually when we reach an impasse or something’s gone wrong. These [poems] come easily and don’t require a lot of thought.”

A couple of years ago, for example, Rosenthal brokered five buildings in the old bank district. He was representing the buyer and seller. When it became clear that the potential buyer, Tom Gilmore, needed the escrow extended, Rosenthal sat down and wrote “Poetic Application for 30 Day Extension of Contingencies (Escrow 98-30675)” and faxed it to the seller, Mark Farzan, who, needless to say, had never before received a poem in his business dealings.

“I thought it was funny,” Farzan says. “And I appreciated his feeling and that he felt compelled to write a poem about it, why we should take his advice, which we did. I can’t say because of the poem we did what we did. People make decisions based on a lot of intuition. But strictly from a monetary point of view, it probably would have made sense for us to either renege from the deal or ask for a higher price. Since then, I’ve seen some of his other poems. I think he’s talented.”

Gilmore is equally enthusiastic. “He’s a little treasure down here. He has found a way to express himself artistically in an arena that really doesn’t allow for that and to boot, he knows more about real estate downtown than anyone else in the city. It’s a riot. The fact that I’m a subject is enjoyable and scary because you never know what he’s going to write.”

As for why Rosenthal doesn’t just save himself some time and make a phone call instead of composing a poem, he says, “That’s too boring. And there’s a selfish element to it. I want to enjoy the work, and the way I can enjoy it is to make it more like art, more playful and expressive. Calling might have been more direct. But it wouldn’t have been as much fun. Also, poetry allows you to communicate things people might not accept in a business format. Just like in the movies, people accept things in art they might not accept from their neighbors.” Besides, he adds, “95% of the time, people love it. They get a kick out of it. They may not agree but they enjoy and value it.”

And the other 5%? “I did lose one client for a number of years because he was criticized in ‘Barons of Broadway,’” Rosenthal says. “But they’ve come around. You can’t have everybody like you a 100% of the time.”

Rosenthal admits the broker-poet combo might not fly somewhere other than downtown L.A. “Given the fact that there’s so much cultural diversity here, that allows me the freedom to be the way I want to be.” In addition, he says, “I typically don’t work for any faceless corporations or banks. All my deals are with individual families or entrepreneurs. This gives me a lot of flexibility. There’s no bureaucratic form or process I have to fit into.”

To date, Rosenthal has published only three of his poems in the Los Angeles Downtown News, and one of those he paid to have printed. “A more ambitious person would have already had a book published with downtown poems and pictures of buildings,” he says. “But there’s a frenzy in real estate that gets kind of obsessive when you’re working on a deal. Then you need to recuperate.” Besides, he says, “There’s no economic motive in the poetry. Like if I made $50 I’d be lucky. It doesn’t compare.”

(BEGIN TEXT OF INFOBOX / INFOGRAPHIC)

An Agent’s Appeal to Extend Escrow --in Full Verse

“Poetic Application for 30 Day Extension of Contingencies (Escrow 98-30675)”

By Ed Rosenthal

I’m sorry to say that

Gilmore can’t pay for

The extension I’m requesting today.

But I truly advise

You to stay by his side

As he shifts to downtown overdrive.

As financial cards fall

My friends--whoever we call