L.A.: It's The Porn

It is 3:00 PM. I am driving from Santa Monica to the Valley. It's about 90 degrees Fahrenheit in the city... bound to be 123 in the Valley. I am free for the rest of the day, yet have chosen to leave the relative coolness of the beach to head home where even if I did bathe in ice cream, I'd only begin to curdle like old milk moments after I emerged. I do not know why anyone lives in the San Fernando Valley. Maybe it's the memory of orange trees... maybe it's the porn. I moved to the Valley to be closer to work. Jobs changed. I stayed for the porn. The sun isn't the only thing which keeps the Valley hot.

L.A. has the best of everything. L.A. is the capital of everything. Porn, bikinis, roller blades, falafel, therapy, the homeless. In a recent survey my therapist conducted (note: I don't have a therapist... it's a put-on) it was revealed that 9 out of 10 homeless people would rather be homeless in Los Angeles than ranch owners in Montana. (This is a lie, no such survey was ever done.) My therapist (I have no therapist) proved the validity of this survey (there was no survey) by offering to personally purchase a ranch in Montana for each of the 100 homeless people he (or she) interviewed. Even the tenth homeless person (of the aforementioned 9 of 10) refused to accept the ranch, explaining that he (or she) rarely acts on his (or her) principles, and that it would be intellectually easier to live in a box in the alley behind the Borders book store on the Third Street Promenade (where they have the best boxes [apparently]). When further questioned about their motivations to remain homeless in L.A., most homeless replied, "It's the porn."

Once I met the mayor. It was about 10:00 AM. We were at an event revolving around homelessness policy advocacy and education. I was staffing a booth. He jiggled up to me (potential voter) to shake my hand and he seemed fresh from his 10:00 AM martini session with Larry Flint. His red cheeks wobbled as our hands went up and down. I took special pleasure in calling him Mayor Dick. I asked him how he felt about L.A. being the capital of the homeless and the porn industry. He said he didn't know there was a homeless industry. He promised to set up a commission and impose heavy taxes. Then he hiccuped. I took this to mean that he would rather live in a cardboard box in Chatsworth than sip Vodka with Ted Kennedy in Kennebunkport.

I believe we can end homelessness in Los Angeles by employing them all as extras in pornographic movies. (Or maybe puffers.) They could live on the sets until they get a few paychecks. It's only possible in Los Angeles. Everything is possible in Los Angeles. Please don't feed the Mayor.

Surf immediately to Lupert: It's The Website and The Poetry Super Highway: http://www.wavenet.com/~rickpoet