The Writer Is One Who, Emnbarking Upon

Well Chaps First I'd Like To Say A Few Vile Things More Or Less At Random, Not Only Because It Is Expected Of Me But Also Because I Enjoy It.

Naked Girls With The Heads Of Marx And Malraux Prone And Helpless In The Glare Of The Headlights, Tried To Give Them A Little Joie De Vivre But Maybe It Didn't Take, Their Constant Bickering And Smallness, It's Like A Stroke Of Lightning, The World Reminds You Of Its Power, Tracheotomies Right And Left, I Am Spinning, My Pretty Child, Don't Scratch, Pick Up Your Feet, The Long Nights, Spent Most Of My Time Listening, This Is A Test Of The System, This Is Only A Test.

People Always Like To Hear That They're Under Stress, Makes Them Feel Better. You Can Imagine What They'd Feel If They Were Told They Weren't Under Stress.

Now It Is Necessary To Court Her, And Win Her, And Put On This Clean Dressing Gown, And Cut My Various Nails, And Drink Something That Will Kill The Millions Of Germs In My Mouth, And Say Something Flattering, And Be Witty And Bonny, And Hale And Kinky, All Just To Ease This Wrinkle In The Groin. It Seems A High Price.

He Is Mad About Being Small When You Were Big, But No, That's Not It, He Is Mad About Being Helpless When You Were Powerful, But No, Not That Either, He Is Mad About Being Contingent When You Were Necessary, Not Quite It... He Is Insane Because When He Loved You, You Didn't Notice.