Soul sweets
Under coral coffee torch
Old Finnegan brushes dust
The puzzle made of the alphabet
Donut exercise
Latter day lemons
The Country
Fellow Calvinists
The most extravagant
Saving the lots precious
Eve Adore
Pink yet yeastiest
Teased disobedience peaches
Mink pristine in heat
The subliminal priestess
Queefs sick tin dolls
Rejuvenate direction, pills
Hitchhike on polaroids
Gaping holes, voids, hemorrhoids
Ass scrapers, sodomy as architechture
African parking in vile mockery
The carousels and vomit, reckless
Rush of blood from the ghetto
All the way to the fake diamonds
In hypocrite panties carved as Lions
Maps to attractions of Two Sexes
And the Sexless
Pouring acid on monsters
To make them cute
Mickey Mouse has no fucking soul
Yours, Hank
Punks on parade
Harmony camouflaged in sucking sound
Camp fire bishop drool
Camping in a phone booth
Flat on its back, the murderer
Relaxed, the cloudy cunt
Dandies fell for
Prototype hustlers and sluts
You can be batman and do things
Put pillow on the genius of the crowd
Robin audition
Destroy the solitude
Or disguise it in faux art school
Babies stuck in molten sugar
Fucking on red carpets
Nails, pins, campfires
Curse your ordinary peers
Move to the wilderness with me
Take acid and worship
Ancient spirits
And take notes
[Hank is speaking]
Who are all these people?
What are all these lights?
Damn hippies!
Hard working guy coming home
From the factory
I was reading the LA free press
You had discovered him as well
Come up here man
Bring a sixpack
We’re all against the war
I was in the war
Trying to edge out to the kitchen
I’m a suicide case anyhow
You solve my problem
Stop the gun, start crying
He psyched the guy out
It would have been a big thing
There was going to be an
Audience for this writer
The Black Sparrow


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