Friday, January 12, 2007

Show me the angels

There is no such thing as Los Angeles.

At least 4 million different versions of this place are seething, bumping, and chattering through the streets -- how should we pick one? We might see L.A. if we could zip out of our skin and into ten thousand others' pulsing bodies. What would it feel like to duck in slowly, reaching up through the arms?

The divides are saw-toothed and the shallowness tastes like fat from all the liposuctions performed since 1993.

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