Any Damn Fool Can Be Spontaneous.

And The Betrayers Of Language ...... N And The Press Gang And Those Who Had Lied For Hire; The Perverts, The Perverters Of Language, The Perverts, Who Have Set Money-lust Before The Pleasures Of The Senses; Howling, As Of A Hen-yard In A Printing-house, The Clatter Of Presses, The Blowing Of Dry Dust And Stray Paper, Foetor, Sweat, The Stench Of Stale Oranges.

No Picture Is Made To Endure Nor To Live With But It Is Made To Sell And Sell Quickly With Usura, Sin Against Nature, Is Thy Bread Ever More Of Stale Rags Is Thy Bread Dry As Paper.

And New York Is The Most Beautiful City In The World? It Is Not Far From It. No Urban Night Is Like The Night There... Squares After Squares Of Flame, Set Up And Cut Into The Aether. Here Is Our Poetry, For We Have Pulled Down The Stars To Our Will.

If A Nation's Literature Declines, The Nation Atrophies And Decays.

Wars In Old Times Were Made To Get Slaves. The Modern Implement Of Imposing Slavery Is Debt.