The Closet Door Is Open

Who Burned Cigarette Holes In Their Arms Protesting The Narcotic Tobacco Haze Of Capitalism

The Apparition Of An Evil, Sick Unconscious Wild City Rose Before Me In Visible Semblance, And About The Dead Buildings In The Barren Air, The Bodies Of The Soul That Built The Wonderland Shuffled And Stalked And Stalked And Lurched In Attitudes Of Immemorial Nightmare All Around.

Night Is The Wonderful Opportunity To Take Rest, To Forgive, To Smile, To Get Ready For All The Battles That You Have To Fight Tomorrow.

If I Had A Soul I Sold It For Pretty Words If I Had A Body I Used It Up Spurting My Essence Allen Ginsberg Warns You Dont Follow My Path To Extinction

I Heard You Asking Questions Of Each: Who Killed The Pork Chops? What Price Bananas? Are You My Angel?