We followed
in the footsteps
of the Marquis De Sade,
...
I bought a poster
of Shelley,
at Keats's old house
in Rome,
...
I like it,
lick it for the time being,
I eat it
...
Haven't written in ages,
and the rages are dead - meat!
I am definitively disappearing
...
Gold - isn't that
some kind of escape,
from everything & everyone,
...
I drained three German beers
and couldn't get out of the seat,
the people looking very
...
It's not futility,
nor is it merely fashion,
...
I take coloured bits of card
left lying about,
and scribble middle of night clots,
skirmishes of thinking,
...