Your head is a living forest full of songbirds.

What concerns me fundamentaly is a meteoric burlesk melodrama, born of the immemorial adage love will find a way.

yes is a world & in this world of yes live (skilfully curled) all worlds

a salesman is an it that stinks to please but whether to please itself or someone else makes no more difference than if it sells hate condoms education snakeoil vac uumcleaners terror strawberries democ ra(caveat emptor)cy superfluous hair

one pierced moment whiter than the rest -turning from the tremendous lie of sleep i watch the roses of the day grow deep.

Art is a mystery. A mystery is something immeasurable.

we're anything brighter than even the sun