Body 13

#324: Of No More Importance Than the Labored Slow Motion of the Tentacular Things That Sprouted From the Base of the Scrawny Slowly Pulsing Neck

#323: And As That Sunless Day Began to Dim Our Vision Was Still Held By That Thing Which Dangled Ominously in the Dusk

#322: Sometimes I Wake in the Night, Very Late in the Still Night, and Go Sit in the Lavatory and Run the Water and Smoke Half a Thin Cigar Until There is Nothing to Feel

#321: Even If I Die Here My Ghost Will Come to Fight Pepsi

#320: And Had Nothing on Their Bird-Beans Except a Lot of Ill-Understood Aquinas for Stuffing for Their Pepper

#319: When You Could Get Morphine in a Drugstore Without Prescription and Chinese Smoked Opium in Their Evening Windows and the Country Was Wild and Brawling and Free

#318: Where a Homeless Man We Called Hungry Jack Stepped in Front of the Path of a Speeding Dodge Truck and Then This Horrible Creature Hatched Out of His Body and Ate Him

#317: Which Looked As Though it Had Been Fire-Hosed With Blood and Ground Meat

#316: Poor Salesmanly Demigods Who Conquer Empires With Lofty Words and Intentions But Need to Scrounge Up Money for Food and the Rent!

#313: And the Thousand Guises of the Word

#314: Assemble the Great Among the Small and Earliest Creatures

#315: Until They Become Sober and Go Up to Their Resting Place

#312: Music Smells Better With You

#310: And There Was a Hysteric Brilliance Flourished By the Trees in Town As Well As Those in the Woods Beyond

#309: Only One Thing Appeared to Be Living Where the Moonlight Spread Across That Dead Field

#311: Something Abysmal Always Finds its Way Into the Bland Beauty of Such Pictures

#308: You Can Take a Bus Right Down There and Spend Endless Hours Looking at Opium Dens Disguised As Laundries

#307: Two or Three Years Ago it Was Just Another Snake Cult

#306: A Bunch of People Rolling in the Brown Grass Wearing Day-Glo Masks Keening in Their Costumes and Private World While the God Speed Sizzles Like a Short-Order French Fry in the Gut of Some Guy Who Doesn't Even Stop Talking to Breathe

#305: Following Restless-Muscled RAF Dogs Into the Plaster Smell

#304: Your Oxymoron of the Week

#303: Away With the Coverage on a Proper Siren's Cruise

#302: When We Embrace the Sea-Stript Dead Wher'l They Be?

#252: Even the Most Blasphemous (They Are Smiling)

#123: Has the Swallow Come, the Harbringer of Spring?