The Suffering Itself Is Not So Bad;

Many Seek And Never See, Anyone Can Tell Them Why. O They Weep And O They Cry And Never Take Until They Try Unless They Try It In Their Sleep And Never Some Until They Die. I Ask Many, They Ask Me. This Is A Great Mystery.

No Monster Vibration, No Snake Universe Hallucinations. Many Tiny Jeweled Violet Flowers Along The Path Of A Living Brook That Looked Like Blake's Illustration For A Canal In Grassy Eden: Huge Pacific Watery Shore, Orlovsky Dancing Naked Like Shiva Long-haired Before Giant Green Waves, Titanic Cliffs That Wordsworth Mentioned In His Own Sublime, Great Yellow Sun Veiled With Mist Hanging Over The Planet's Oceanic Horizon. No Harm.

Mind Is Shapely, Art Is Shapely.

Now I Have Enough Money To Travel Wherever I Want, But I Haven't Got The Health.

Taxi September Along Jessore Road Oxcart Skeletons Drag Charcoal Load Past Watery Fields Thru Rain Flood Ruts Dung Cakes On Treetrunks, Plastic-roof Huts Wet Processions Families Walk Stunted Boys Big Heads Don't Talk Look Bony Skulls & Silent Round Eyes Starving Black Angels In Human Disguise.