在科学之后，我们有了各种各样的香水。然后是月，我不知道为什么，我也不知道它的颜色，毫无征兆，没有疣，在扩张。好像我是看不见的;就好像我死了一样。当我在大厅里漫步时，空气穿过我，穿过我的头。看我的手:它们是动物的手，但它们是玻璃的。我的光脚连着我的腿。我的大脑充满了密码。你是三倍的，你是玻璃。你买的就是你自己。 And yet the allegory continues. Even without credit. Even without cash. There is no air. There is no death. There is no sex. There is no class. As to that, find what could be only not what was dream in this wide world outside the scheme and then some handsome partners in crime will pass the time from hand to hand. A tall and handy and then some favoring weeks might be my by and by between the cheeks. Blessed are the damned by cruel society. Society is species. You, you could count the years and count the hills. You could count the armpits. Blessed are the mothers who eat their children and the fathers who, in a time of reward, will have no sons. It was better if not cleaner on the beach- early morning, when you were the only dog. the only car. And you, you thought you were glass. Blessed are the children who have no language: language is government. Either I am big or I am huge. I have no love or glory; I have no fear -until all three descend on me and once again I reappear.