I Touch Your Book And Dream Of

None Of Us Understand What We're Doing, But We Do Beautiful Things Anyway.

I Saw The Best Minds Of My Generation Destroyed By Madness, Starving Hysterical Naked, Dragging Themselves Through The Negro Streets At Dawn Looking For An Angry Fix Angelheaded Hipsters Burning For The Ancient Heavenly Connection To The Starry Dynamo In The Machinery Of The Night.

I Know Too Much And Not Enough

Bob Dylan's One Of The Greatest Blues Singers Of The Western World; Ancient Art, On-the-spot Improvisation, Mind Quickness, Endless Variation, Classical Formulae, Prophetic Vision, Mighty Wind-horse.

We Love To Be Hurt And We Love To Have Our Unhealing Wounds Opened And Reopened Again: We Sit Staring In The Mirror Of Art, Fascinated By Our Own Deformities.