the railroad yard wondering where to go, and went, leaving no
broken hearts, who studied Plotinus Poe St. John of the Cross
telepathy vibrated at their feet in Kansas, seeking jazz or sex or soup,
and followed the brilliant Spaniard to converse about America and
the grass of public parks and cemeteries scattering their semen
freely to with a belt of marijuana for New York, Paradise Alley,
death, or purgatoried