Naked In Solitary Prison Cell He Looks

The Typewriter Is Holy The Poem Is Holy The Voice Is Holy The Hearers Are Holy The Ecstacy Is Holy!

In My Dreams You Walk Dripping From A Sea Journey On The Highway Across America In Tears To The Door Of My Cottage In The Western Night

It's Never To Late To Do Nothing At All.

I'm An Old Man Now, And A Lonesome Man In Kansas / But Not Afraid / To Speak My Lonesomeness In A Car, / Because Not Only My Lonesomeness / It's Ours, All Over America, / O Tender Fellows --/ & Spoken Lonesomeness Is Prophecy / In The Moon 100 Years Ago Or In / The Middle Of Kansas Now.

Well, While I'm Here I'll Do The Work — And What's The Work? To Ease The Pain Of Living. Everything Else, Drunken Dumbshow.