Dig this Daddio:


the evenings in rose whomever come who may, with a bottle of
who sweetened the snatches of a million girls trembling in the
sunset, and were red eyed in the evenings in rose whomever come who
may, with a bottle of who sweetened the snatches of a million girls
trembling in the morning but prepared to sweeten the snatch of the wards
of the soul illuminated its hair for a


Seed me again

Thanks to Allen Ginsberg for HOWL, and Andrei Andreyevich Markov for an algorithm.