“…we’re all beautiful golden sunflowers inside, we’re all blessed by our own seed & golden hairy naked accomplishment(Sunflower Sutra)”
“We're not our skin of grime, we're not our dread bleak dusty imageless locomotive, we're all beautiful golden sunflowers inside, we're blessedby our own seed & hairy nakedaccomplishment-bodies growing into mad black formal sunflowers in the sunset, spied on by our eyes under the shadow of the mad locomotive riverbank sunset Frisco hilly tincan evening sitdown vision.”
“Top-heavy sunflowers droop, their leaves baked golden by the August sun.”
“There was the gaudy patch of sunflowers beside the west gate of the palace of the Prince of Ombria, that did nothing all day long but turn their golden-haired, thousand-eyed faces to follow the sun.”
“We're all the same inside.”