Jesteśmy społecznością, która kocha książki

Angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection to the starry dynamo in the machinery of night".

and rose reincarnate in the ghostly clothes of jazz in the goldhorn shadow of the band and blew the suffering of America's naked mind for love into an eli eli lamma lamma sabacthani saxophone cry that shivered the cities down to the last radio...

who hiccuped endlessly trying to giggle but wound up with a sob behind a partition in a Turkish Bath when the blond & naked angel came to pierce them with a sword...

in my dreams you walk dripping from a seajourney on the highway across America in tears to the door of my cottage in the Western night.