the East River to open to a room full of steamheat and opium,
cliff-banks of the coma by our own souls' airplanes roaring over the roof
waving genitals and manuscripts, who let themselves be fucked in the
filthy Passaic, leaped on negroes, cried all over the street, danced
on broken wineglasses barefoot smashed to each other's
hotrod-Golgotha jail-solitude who drove crosscountry seventytwo hours to find
out Eternity, Denver and finally