Black X's on the Blue Angel

motel as I drove by it this morning-- it used to be a darling of the old world Vegas, in the Ratpack mobster gangster jazzster days, and it's funny how the angels have left the ballpark, dig? Nothing but skeletons with high cheekbones, old farts with sleeping disorders, the meek and the predators, everyone intoxicated or handicapped or working, no more blue angel, no more Blue Angel, just radiation off the hot hot sidewalk.