I can't fight it anymore, I'm giving in.
A two-stepped procedure is mine : walk
into the whirring blades please, pretend
that the world no longer exists.
Here's my countenance; take it away.
Give me good tea, with two lumps,
Camel-blend, of you will, and not
Camomile. This is too much.
Here again, I am stranger come naked.
Entering into the paraprelegium of my
own doubting fakes. I can lie and can
cheat with the best of those rakes.
Find me another woman, stuff her in
a bag, take her home with me, to