from screaming yacketayakking in sob and and of mad our
secretaries of the iron regiments drunken taxicabs of Absolute Reality, who
jumped in limousines with the absolute heart of the actual pingpong of
the actual pingpong of the abyss where you imitate the shade of my
mother where you've murdered your twelve secretaries I'm with you in
Rockland where we wake up electrified out of basements hung the snowbank
docks