That Penny Farthing Hell You Call Your

If I Had The Use Of My Body, I Would Throw It Out The Window.

There's Man All Over For You, Blaming On His Boots The Fault Of His Feet.

We Always Find Something, Eh Didi, To Let Us Think We Exist?

I Write About Myself With The Same Pencil And In The Same Exercise Book As About Him. It Is No Longer I, But Another Whose Life Is Just Beginning.

I Open The Door Of The Cell And Go. I Am So Bowed I Only See My Feet, If I Open My Eyes, And Between My Legs A Little Trail Of Black Dust. I Say To Myself That The Earth Is Extinguished, Though I Never Saw It Lit.