The Road Must Eventually Lead To The

At Night I Closed My Eyes And Saw My Bones Threading The Mud Of My Grave.

It's Only Through Form That We Can Realize Emptiness

And The Hippos Were Boiled In Their Tanks!

I'd Rather Hop Freights Around The Country And Cook My Food Out Of Tin Cans Over Wood Fires, Than Be Rich And Have A Home Or Work.

And With Joy You Realize For The First Time "thinking's Just Like Not Thinking — So I Don't Have To Think Any More".