deeds cannot dream what dreams can do

The mind is its own beautiful prisoner. Mind looked long at the sticky moon opening in dusk her new wings then decently hanged himself,one afternoon. The last thing he saw was you naked amid unnaked things.

And this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart I carry your heart [ i carry it in my heart ]

Buffalo Bill's defunct who used to ride a watersmooth-silver stallion and break onetwothreefourfive pigeonsjustlikethat Jesus he was a handsome man and what i want to know is how do you like your blueeyed boy Mister Death

most people are perfectly afraid of silence

Tomorrow is our permanent address.

The sensual mysticism of entire vertical being.