“Unless Chase Bank quits I prophesy blood violence”

“Who can prophesy peace, or vow Futurity for any but armed insects”

“Banks burn, boys die bullet-eyed, mothers scream realization the vast tonnage of napalm”

“When Violence floods the State from above, flowery land razed for robot proliferation”

“You can own an elephant or a bank or power thereof but if there's no personal breast bliss all you own is a lot of dead atoms and ideas.”

“Shit, Violence, bullets in the brain Unavailing.We're in too deep to pull out.Waiting for an orgasm, Mr. Baldwin?Yes, waiting for an orgasm that's all.”

“Where are we going, Walt Whitman? The doors close in an hour. Which way does your beard point tonight? (I touch your book and dream of our odyssey in the supermarket and feel absurd.) Will we walk all night through solitary streets? The trees add shade to shade, lights out in the houses, we'll both be lonely. Will we stroll dreaming of the lost America of love past blue automobiles in driveways, home to our silent cottage? Ah, dear father, graybeard, lonely old courage-teacher, what America did you have when Charon quit poling his ferry and you got out on a smoking bank and stood watching the boat disappear on the black waters of Lethe?”