36th Chorus

No direction
No direction to go

Burroughs says it’s a time-space
        travel ship
Connected with mystiques
        and mysteries
Of he claims transcendental
        majesties,
Pulque green crabapples
        of hypnotic dream
In hanging Ecuad vine.
Burroughs says, We have destiny,
Last of the Faustian Men.

              No direction in the void
              Is the news from the void
              In touch with the void
              Everywhere void

No direction to go
            (but)
                (in) ward

Hm
    (ripping of paper indicates
     helplessness anyway)


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