Moloch whose skyscrapers stand in the long

streets like endless Jehovahs! Moloch whose factories

dream and croak in the fog! Moloch whose

smokestacks and antennae crown the cities!

Moloch whose love is endless oil and stone! Moloch

whose soul is electricity and banks! Moloch

whose poverty is the specter of genius! Moloch

whose fate is a cloud of sexless hydrogen!

Moloch whose name is the Mind!

Moloch in whom I sit lonely! Moloch in whom I dream

Angels! Crazy in Moloch! Cocksucker in

Moloch! Lacklove and manless in Moloch!

Moloch who entered my soul early! Moloch in whom

I am a consciousness without a body! Moloch

who frightened me out of my natural ecstasy!

Moloch whom I abandon! Wake up in Moloch!

Light streaming out of the sky!

Moloch! Moloch! Robot apartments! invisible suburbs!

skeleton treasuries! blind capitals! demonic

industries! spectral nations! invincible mad

houses! granite cocks! monstrous bombs!

They broke their backs lifting Moloch to Heaven! Pave-

ments, trees, radios, tons! lifting the city to

Heaven which exists and is everywhere about us!

Visions! omens! hallucinations! miracles! ecstasies!

gone down the American river!

Dreams! adorations! illuminations! religions! the whole

boatload of sensitive bullshit!

Breakthroughs! over the river! flips and crucifixions!

gone down the flood! Highs! Epiphanies! Despairs!

Ten years' animal screams and suicides!

Minds! New loves! Mad generation! down on

the rocks of Time!

Real holy laughter in the river! They saw it all! the

wild eyes! the holy yells! They bade farewell!

They jumped off the roof! to solitude! waving!

carrying flowers! Down to the river! into the street!

Carl Solomon! I'm with you in Rockland

where you're madder than I am

I'm with you in Rockland

Where you must feel very strange

I'm with you in Rockland

Where you imitate the shade of my mother

I'm with you in Rockland

where you've murdered your twelve secretaries

I'm with you in Rockland

Where you laugh at this invisible humor

I'm with you in Rockland

Where we are great writers on the same dreadful typewriter

I'm with you in Rockland

Where your condition has become serious and

Is reported on the radio

I'm with you in Rockland

Where the faculties of the skull no longer admit

The worms of the senses

I'm with you in Rockland

Where you drink the tea of the breasts of the

Spinsters of Utica

I'm with you in Rockland

Where you pun on the bodies of your nurses the

Harpies of the Bronx

I'm with you in Rockland

where you scream in a straightjacket that you're

Losing the game of the actual pingpong of the abyss

I'm with you in Rockland

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