Everybody's serious but me.

Follow your inner moonlight; don't hide the madness.

America, I've given you all and now I'm nothing.

Naked in solitary prison cell he looks down at a hard-on.

Whoever controls the media, the images, controls the culture.

Taxi September along Jessore Road Oxcart skeletons drag charcoal load past watery fields thru rain flood ruts Dung cakes on treetrunks, plastic-roof huts Wet processions Families walk Stunted boys big heads don't talk Look bony skulls & silent round eyes Starving black angels in human disguise.

The whole blear world of smoke and twisted steel around my head in a railroad car, and my mind wandering past the rust into futurity: I saw the sun go down in a carnal and primeval world, leaving darkness to cover my railroad train because the other side of the world was waiting for dawn.