Love is the purest violence
A meth snow without a funeral wreath
I wait for you in a crystal penitentiary
That holds my most bewitched dreams

From your face I made a sky for my soul
From your eyes a tunnel for my freedom
I walk the world remembering your dreams
I protect myself against death by whispering your name

And when life slips from my hands like a silk scarf
That my destiny seems to escape on horses of fire
That gallop on the senseless meadow of my dreams
I implore the insincere Gods to let me whisper a last prayer to you

Back on the beach, under a glowing sun:
Come on, turn up the radio!
Let me tell you about the madness
And the blue tears of Los Angeles
About the noise they made when they flooded the city of clay

The citizens hold up torches of sugar
Swastikas appear in the windows
Do you hear the next day singing?
I lost my suede gloves in a gutter

And the invisible murders wake up
In the light of our insoluble sufferings
The back bent under rains of frozen champagne
The peasants of ash of our cities

Hollywood in constellations of bursts of laughter
On the couches the shadow of our pasts
And on the snow the sledge of a damned cineast
Christmas sparkle, here is my last prayer,

I give it to you, a last line prostrate on the toilet,
The lock is broken
The strobe lights tell the story of an arsonist
Driven mad by the night lights

Come on, turn up the radio!
Let me tell you about the madness
And the blue tears of Los Angeles
About the sound they made when they flooded the city with clay

Let me run every red light
On the avenue that leads to her house
Let me drive drunk
Give my registration to the first policeman

In this city — our moral exercises
Are like oaths of fragile love
As useless as a shower of salt water
In a desert of quicksand

Far from the highway on-ramp
A singer blasts a 90’s hit
Marijuana on the smooth asphalt
By the wheels of my BMW

The phone message
Let me hear a voice I loved
The sheets unraveled the oxidized sun
On the pool with watery curves

I took a Valium to forget the salty taste
Of the light on my white skin
M.T.V resounds in the pine cottage
There is powder on the postcard

And the children who cheer for Christmas
Have the glassy eyes of organized crime
Luscious mouths like clouds knocked up by rain
And I drink a pepsi and forget your name and Sunset boulevard

The jukebox plays a song from my adolescence
A girl with ultra-short hair leaning against the pinball machine
Looks at me like I’m a train headed for hell
I’m going to sleep the beauty of the night is lost

Love — a damn cigarette puff
And that taste that grabs you by the throat
A little menthol and stupor further on
The road is nowhere near as rough;

I played cards with the wind
It didn’t let me cut my last trick
It slapped me this child of bastard
He took my life and all the poetry

Pink sunglasses
Do you really want to hurt me ?
I broke my pocket mirror
Kissing the bartender at the Avalon

The waves of heat
Move the blinds of this air-conditioned room
I looked through the thick glass
Los Angeles is crying tears of pity

I hear you laughing from my crystal dream
I poured my gin and tonic on the open wound
Of your memory — and flayed my agenda alive
Here’s my last prayer:

Come on, turn up the radio!
Let me tell you about the madness
And the blue tears of Los Angeles
About the sound they made when they flooded the city with clay

Love is the purest violence
A meth snow without a funeral wreath
There are flashes all the way to my fridge —
And my smartphone filters obscure your smile —

From your face I made a sky for my soul
From your eyes a tunnel for my freedom
I travel the world remembering your dreams
I protect myself against death by whispering your name

And when life slips from my hands like a silk scarf
That my destiny seems to escape on horses of fire
That gallop on the senseless meadow of my dreams
I implore the insincere Gods to let me make a last prayer to you

Back on the beach, under a glowing sun:
Come on, turn up the radio!
Let me tell you about the madness
And the blue tears of Los Angeles
About the noise they made when they flooded the city of clay