Dig this Daddio:


the evenings in rose who hiccuped endlessly trying to giggle
but wound up with a bottle of beer a sweetheart a package of
cigarettes a candle and fell off the bed, and continued along the floor
and down the flood! Highs! Epiphanies! Despairs! the rocks of Time!
wild eyes! the holy yells! They bade farewell! carrying flowers!
Down to the last door closed at 4. A.M. and the lava and


Seed me again

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