Which Way Will The Sunflower Turn Surrounded

The Apparition Of An Evil, Sick Unconscious Wild City Rose Before Me In Visible Semblance, And About The Dead Buildings In The Barren Air, The Bodies Of The Soul That Built The Wonderland Shuffled And Stalked And Stalked And Lurched In Attitudes Of Immemorial Nightmare All Around.

I Want People To Bow As They See Me And Say He Is Gifted With Poetry, He Has Seen The Presence Of The Creator.

A Naked Lunch Is Natural To Us We Eat Reality Sandwiches. But Allegories Are So Much Lettuce. Don't Hide The Madness.

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.

A Poem Is Like A Radio That Can Broadcast Continuously For Thousands Of Years.