Is that the only way we can become like Indians, like Rhinoceri, 
like Quartz Crystals, like organic farmers, like what we imagine 
Adam & Eve to?ve been, caressing each other with trembling limbs 
before the Snake of Revolutionary Sex wrapped itself round 
The Tree of Knowledge? What would Roque Dalton joke about lately
teeth chattering like a machine gun as he dabated mass tactics 
with his Companeros? Necessary to kill the Yanquis with big bomb 
Yes but don?t do it by yourself, better consult your mother
to get the Correct Line of Thought, if not consult Rimbaud once he got his leg cut off
or Lenin after his second stroke sending a message thru Mrs Krupskaya 
to the rude Georgian, & just before his deathly fit when the Cheka aides
outside
his door looked in coldly assuring him his affairs were in good hands no need to move - What sickness at the 
pit of his stomach moved up to
his brain?
What thought Khlebnikov on the hungry train exposing his stomach to the 
sun?
Or Mayakovsky before the bullet hit his brain, what sharp propaganda for 
action
on the Bureaucratic Battlefield in the Ministry of Collective Agriculture in 
Ukraine?
What Slogan for Futurist architects or epic hymn for masses of Communist 
Party Card holders in Futurity
on the conduct of the world seeking beauty against Government?