exits to freeways twisted like knots on the fingers jewels cleaving skin between breasts your cadillac reads 400 horses over blue lines you are going to Recida to make love to a model from Ohio whose real name you don't know you spin like the cadillac was overturning down a cliff on television and the radio is on and the radio man is speaking and the radio man says women were a curse so men built Paramount studios and men built Columbia studios and men built Los Angeles it is 5 a.m. and you are listening to Los Angeles it is 5 a.m. and you are listening to Los Angeles and the radio man says it is a beautiful night out there and the radio man says rock and roll lives and the radio man says it is a beautiful night out there in Los Angeles you live in Los Angeles and you are going to Recida we are all in some way or another going to Recida some day, to die
and the radio man laughs because the radio man fucks a model too gone savage for teenagers with automatic weapons and boundless love gone savage for teenagers who are aesthetically pleasing, in other words, fly Los Angeles beckons the teenagers to come to her on buses Los Angeles loves love it is 5 a.m. and you are listening to Los Angeles it is 5 a.m. and you are listening to Los Angeles i am going to Los Angeles to build a screenplay about lovers who murder eachother i am going to Los Angeles to see my own name on a screen five feet long and luminous as the radio man says it is 5 a.m. and the sun has charred the other end of the world and come back to us and painted the smoke over our heads an imperial violet it is 5 a.m. and you are listening to Los Angeles it is 5 a.m. and you are listening to Los Angeles you are listening you are listening you are listening.... to Los Angeles.
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