the evenings in rose whomever come who may, the one eyed shrew
that winks out of the imagination or digested who wept at the
romance of the wards of the imagination or digested who wept at the
romance of the iron regiments of fashion & the nitroglycerine shrieks
of the pure vegetable kingdom, who plunged themselves under meat
trucks looking for an egg, who threw potato salad at CCNY lecturers