You have done Good for yourselves Since you left my wet embrace And crawled ashore . . . My sons and my daughters Ho-oh! Your sweat is salty I am why

He offers a handshake, crooked five fingers They form a pattern yet to be matched On the surface simplicity But the darkest pit in me is pagan poetry

Americans are so dumb!

I dare you to take me on I dare you to show me your palms I'm so bored of cowards who say they want (love) Then they can't handle love