After The Collapse Of Socialism, Capitalism Remained

Love That’s It: The Cashless Commerce. The Blanket Always Too Short. The Loose Connexion. To Search Behind The Horizon. To Brush Fallen Leaves With Four Shoes And In One’s Mind To Rub Bare Feet. To Let And Rent Hearts; Or In A Room With Shower And Mirror, In A Hired Car, Bonnet Facing The Moon, Wherever Innocence Stops And Burns Its Programme, The Word In Falsetto Sounds Different And New Each Time. Today, In Front Of A Box Office Not Yet Open, Hand In Hand Crackled The Hangdog Old Man And The Dainty Old Woman. The Film Promised Love.

Even If Surrounded With Explanations, Auschwitz Can Never Be Grasped.

Removed From Its More Restrictive Sense, Masturbation Has Become An Expression For Everything That Has Proved, For Lack Of Human Contact, To Be Void Of Meaning. We Have Communication Problems, Suffer From Egocentrism And Narcissism, Are Frustrated By Information Glut And Loss Of Environment; We Stagnate Despite The Rising Gnp.

Can It Be That Action Is Active Resignation? Something Is Trying To Develop; It Moves Ever So Slightly, And There Comes Your Man Of Action And Bashes In The Hothouse Windows.

We Dance For The Pure Joy Of It. In The Kitchen To The Record Player. Because We've Got It In Us. All Over ... It's Not Just In The Legs. It Comes From Inside And Runs All Through You. In Waves. From Down Below To Up Above. All The Way To The Scalp.