Emerald As Heavy As A Golf Course,

No One To Hate Except The Slim Fish Of Memory That Slides In And Out Of My Brain.

Even Without Wars, Life Is Dangerous.

The Saints Come, As Human As A Mouth, With A Bag Of God In Their Backs, Like A Hunchback, They Come, They Come Marching In.

It Was As If A Morning-glory Had Bloomed In Her Throat, And All That Blue And Small Pollen Ate Into My Heart, Violent And Religious

Give Me Your Skin As Sheer As A Cobweb, Let Me Open It Up And Listen In And Scoop Out The Dark.