Well, One Gets Out Of Bed And

Psychiatry Is A Dirty Mirror.

Fear / A Motor, / Pumps Me Around And Around / Until I Fade Slowly.

Need Is Not Quite Belief.

The Boys And Girls Are One Tonight. They Unbutton Blouses. They Unzip Flies. They Take Off Shoes. They Turn Off The Light. The Glimmering Creatures Are Full Of Lies. They Are Eating Each Other. They Are Overfed. At Night, Alone, I Marry The Bed.

You See, We Live In A Cold Climate And Are Not Permitted To Kiss On The Street So I Made Up A Song That Wasn't True. I Made Up A Song Called Marriage.