L.A. Night of the Broken Dream

Kiss Me Deadly (1955)

And I see you now, you woman of that night – I see you in the sanctity of some dirty harbor bedroom flop-joint, with the mist outside, and you lying with legs loose and cold from the fog’s lethal kisses, and hair smelling of blood, sweet as blood, your frayed and ripped hose hanging from a rickety chair beneath the cold yellow light of a single, spotted bulb, the odor of dust and wet leather spinning about, your tattered blue shoes tumbled sadly at the bedside, your face lined with the tiring misery of Woolworth defloration and exhausting poverty, your lips slutty, yet soft blue lips of beauty calling me to come come come to that miserable room and feast myself upon the decaying rapture of your form, that I might give you a twisting beauty for misery and a twisting beauty for cheapness, my beauty for yours, the light becoming blackness as we scream, our miserable love and farewell to the tortuous flickering of a gray dawn that refused to really begin and would never really have an ending.

John Fante – The Road to Los Angeles (1933)

3 thoughts on “L.A. Night of the Broken Dream”

  1. Hi! Tony,
    The Title,(L.A. The Night of Broken Dream) The well-written short “noirish” piece by John Fante, The Road to Los Angeles and the screenshot all compliment each other…“perfectly.”
    Thanks, for sharing!
    DeeDee 😉

    Like

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