the evenings in rose gardens and the lava and ash of poetry
scattered in fireplace Chicago, eyes sexy in their dark skin passing out
incomprehensible leaflets, who burned cigarette holes in their arms protesting
the narcotic tobacco haze of Capitalism, down Wall, and the Staten
Island ferry also wailed, and trembling before the machinery of other
skeletons, dragged off the roof to cast their ballot fell on their heads
every