I'm Afraid To Live Any Place But

I've Seen The Future And It's Murder.

I Never Really Liked Poetry Readings; I Liked To Read Poetry By Myself, But I Liked Singing, Chanting My Lyrics To This Jazz Group.

I Don't Even Hate Books Anymore.

Now I've Heard There Was A Secret Chord That David Played, And It Pleased The Lord But You Don't Really Care For Music, Do You? It Goes Like This The Fourth, The Fifth The Minor Fall, The Major Lift The Baffled King Composing Hallelujah

In Montreal Spring Is Like An Autopsy. Everyone Wants To See The Inside Of The Frozen Mammoth. Girls Rip Off Their Sleeves And The Flesh Is Sweet And White, Like Wood Under Green Bark. From The Streets A Sexual Manifesto Rises Like An Inflating Tire, “the Winter Has Not Killed Us Again!