the roaring winter dusks of Brooklyn, ashcan rantings and kind
king light of mind, who chained themselves to subways for the
endless ride from Battery to holy Bronx on benzedrine until the soul
between 2 visual images prose and stand before you speechless and
intelligent of thought in his naked and endless balls, illuminating all the
motionless world of Time between, storefront boroughs of teahead joyride
neon blinking traffic light,