It Is A Dead Heart. It Is

Blue Eyes Wash Off Sometimes.

Frog Has No Nerves. Frog Is As Old As A Cockroach. Frog Is My Father's Genitals. Frog Is A Malformed Doorknob. Frog Is A Soft Bag Of Green.

Everyone Has Left Me Except My Muse, That Good Nurse. She Stays In My Hand, A Mild White Mouse.

I Said, The Poets Are There I Hear Them Singing And Lying Around Their Round Table And Around Me Still.

O Starry Night, This Is How I Want To Die