“alone with everybodythe flesh covers the boneand they put a mindin there andsometimes a soul,and the women breakvases against the wallsand them men drink toomuchand nobody finds theonebut they keeplookingcrawling in and outof beds.flesh coversthe bone and theflesh searchesfor more thanflesh.there's no chanceat all:we are all trappedby a singularfate.nobody ever findsthe one.the city dumps fillthe junkyards fillthe madhouses fillthe hospitals fillthe graveyards fillnothing elsefills.”

“there's no chanceat all:we are all trappedby a singularfate.”

“I had been born in order to fillthe great need I had of myself.”

“nobody ever finds the one”

“Where did all the women come from? The supply was endless. Each one of them was individual, different. Their pussies were different, their kisses were different, their breasts were different, but no man could drink them all, there were too many of them, crossing their legs, driving men mad. What a feast!”

“there is moss on the wallsand the stain of thought and failure andwaiting”

“The street to my left was backed up with traffic and I watched the people waiting patiently in the cars. There was almost always a man and a women, staring straight ahead, not talking. It was, finally, for everyone, a matter of waiting. You waited and you waited- for the hospital, the doctor, the plumber, the madhouse, the jail, papa death himself. First the signal red, then the signal was green. The citizens of the world ate food and watched t.v. and worried about their jobs or lack of the same, while they waited.”