A febrile shocking violent smack and the children are hoping for a heart attack tonight the windows are watching, the streets all conspire and the lampost can´t stop crying
If I could fly high above the world Would I see a bunch of living dots spell the word stupidity? Or would I just see hungry lover homicides, loving brother suicides and olly olly oxenfrees, who pickaside and hide
The world is scratching at my door My morning papers got the scores, the human interest stories, and the obituary
Cockroach nape and rattling traps, How many devils can you fit upon a match head? Caringosity killed the Kerouac cat, Sometimes truth is stranger than fiction
In my alley around the corner there´s a wino with feathered shoulders
and a spirit giving head for crack and he´ll never want it back There´s a little kid and his family eating crackers like Thanksgiving and a pack of wild desperadoes scornful of living
The world is scratching at my door My morning papers got the scores, the human interest stories, and the obituary
Cradle for a cat, Wolfe looks back, How many angels can you fit upon a match? I want to know why Hemmingway cracked Sometimes truth is stranger than fiction
Life is the crummiest I ever read, there isn´t a hook, just a lot of cheap shots Pictures to shock and characters an