“I think I’m a kind of a poet”

Said the lion when he crossed

Town

O’er the 101

Tempting the long death of Ellay

Dancing ‘round Holy Hollywood fires.

Who is this mendacious bitch?

Who dares pimp out the old Griffith cougar

To make flesh of this rockin’ city?

This Angelyne who sucked your brain 

Until you were cheated of all thought

The sweet redemption of crazed and horny attempts

To be someone else’s bitch.

This city which fatally needs to possess

The other and Itself.

The one who says we’ve got no snow in Hollywood

Ain’t never been in the bathroom at Thai Angel.

To have the freest way

You’ve gotta have eighty bucks for gas

And then some.

Finally, the sun rises red 

O’er the yellow “L-I-Q-U-O-R”

Light up another,

Ah, 

Los Angeles is queen

For yet again, another morn