shall i walk the road alone
searchin for a dry bone in this raggéd waste land
the sandbelt of scratching pain disdain remains of the stains of his-story,
women have the glory of new brith, I walk by her thigh and pay her worship
my whore's hip is stiff from running
Frued's a maniac, who made everybody else, feel like a maniac.
I'm back to crack open consciousness again, like taking a scalpel to an electric blue silk veil slitting it through to reveal the black interior of Nothingness in the heartbeat of night
I don't want to fright or fight,
but that's what must be shunned done won
sum done, sundune,
i'm through into light flight!