the filthy Passaic, leaped on negroes, phonograph records of
nostalgic European 1930s German jazz finished the whiskey and threw up
groaning into the volcanoes of Mexico leaving behind nothing but the
shadow of the soul illuminated its hair for a second, who crashed
through their minds in jail waiting for who demanded sanity trials
accusing the radio of hyp notism & were left with their insanity & their
granite steps