the ass by saintly motorcyclists, and screamed with joy, the
sailors, caresses of Atlantic and Caribbean love, who balled in the void
I'm with you in Rockland where you bang on the radio I'm with you
in Rockland where we hug and kiss the United States under our
bedsheets the United States that coughs all I'm with you in Rockland
where the faculties of the soul, dolmen-realms of love, dream