Dig this Daddio:


the morning rise, flashing buttocks under barns and naked in
the lake, stolen night-cars, N.C., secret hero of these rickety
rows, on mountaintops in caves or with gaunt waitresses in familiar
roadside lonely petticoat upliftings & especially secret gas-station who
faded out in vast sordid movies, were shifted in Avenue iron dreams &
stumbled to unemployment offices, who walked all night rocking and
rolling over lofty incantations which in


Seed me again

Thanks to Allen Ginsberg for HOWL, and Andrei Andreyevich Markov for an algorithm.