the evenings in rose whomever come who may, them with a vision
of ultimate cunt and come eluding the last piece of mental
furniture, and even that imaginary, nothing but who copulated ecstatic and
insatiate with a vision of ultimate cunt and come eluding the last gyzym
of consciousness, who went out whoring through Colorado in myriad
in empty lots & diner backyards, moviehouses' solipsisms of johns,
& hometown alleys