Glorious angels circle the LA night sky. Their beating wings scatter deadbeats. Their healing kisses dampen the siren’s cry. Across town, Kindness finally gets a star on Hollywood Boulevard while high in the hills, wolves prowl, spread howl like bloodseed. Downtown there is song, dance, and pills with the names of saints to send you into radiant dreams. The mistress of well-dressed ennui prowls Westside streets. Empty Eastside lots confess the names of the dead they’ve long concealed. In Leimert Park, they’re serving up words fresh off poetry’s meaty bone. Down on Skid Row, every line in every homeless person’s face reveals all the joys and pains ever known to this city.