. and the white man dancing. You'll see a woman. hanging upside down. her features covered by her fallen gown. and all the lousy little poets. coming round. tryin' to sound like Charlie Manson. and the
city (not sitting pretty). (Grafted in a jiffy) heroin pity. Not tear gas nor baton charge. That stops you taking the city The ghetto prince of gutter poets. Was bounced out of the room (Jean Arthur
gutter poets. Was bounced out of the room (Jean Arthur Rimbaud). By the bodyguards of greed. For disturbing the tomb (eighteen-seventy-three). His words like flamethrowers (paris commune). Burnt the