That's what makes me happy;

When the faces grin and nod -
tiny wrinkles crawling from the ends
of their eyes.

"I wanna pick your brain,"
the choir of perceptive ears.
The instant where you look up
and know you've inspired thought -
When you know they're afraid to speak next,
unable to follow the previous act.

No other drink could taste as good
as the crashing waves
of prohibited forms!

Tell me a story that shatters my porcelain skull.

Read me a poem
that melts into the veins as blood.
If all man knew my brain as you,
I'd never have to try for play.

Praise my sacred verse!
Drink my spoken notes!

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