Crowned Head
Madness thundery gist of dream and dross / Ring where the cave of future ring / Cherry between me and the boog man Nothingness / My wind-tossed head
Shampoo
Incense clings to the Corpse's abdomen / Great is Allah! Not I for I was born / To loathe myself and drink through my thin skin / Evening's hope and the naked fright of dawn
Notes For A Coming Attraction
I died. Deader and deader. / "Little joke corpse!" Yeah, I shrank beyond belief; I'd even fit quite neatly / inside the bowl of my ridiculously / miniscule briarwood pipe. / Ishmael they call me, Father / Ishmael. I'm such a pipsqueak, though, / they have got to be kidding.