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.