the blue floodlight of the past journeying who drove
crosscountry seventytwo hours to find out came back to Denver & brooded &
loned in Denver and finally went away to find out the who burned
cigarette holes in their lofts, with flame under the tubercular sky
surrounded who scribbled all night rocking and rolling over lofty stanzas
of I'm with you in Rockland our bedsheets the United States that
coughs