#002: Hello Bottle, My Old Friend (I've Come to Drink from You Again)
#005: Zaraϑuštra (Or: Song for Zarathus)
#025: the Comedy of Repetition
#075: to Light the Way for Others
A Body, a Silent Companion, Exacting and Eternal
A Close Encounter with Satan's Asshole
A Disembodied Soul, Thou Hast by Right
A Flammable Nitrate the Cameraman Gathers
A Glass of Ginger Pop Won't Do You Any Harm
A Great Fire-Red Dragon with Seven Heads and Ten Horns
A Great Moralist Is, Among Other Things, Necessarily a Great Actor
A Perilous Gift for a Man Who Is Seeking Fine Hazards
A Slice of Pickle Which Was Not Flyspecked but Looked It
A Trout's Leap in the Moonlight
Above a Store That Bought and Sold Pistols
Accept or Discuss Høyre's Defence
Adhesive Plaster, Leeches, Taffy, Wet Socks, Rubber Girdles, Chewing Gum and Tapioca Pudding
Against Your Breast and the Sweet Wild Rocks
Ages Ago When I Felt a Cold Touch Like Spittle on My Lids
Ah! How Shameless, the Way These Mortals Blame the Gods
All About Them Was the Unmistakable Smell of Sunbaked Prawns
All Has Been Darkness Since I Left the Earth
All I Can Think of Is Streetcars and Buzzflies, Flies Sticking Their Feet in People's Food
Among My Perishing Fellow-Creatures
And All That David Copperfield Kind of Crap
And Despite Their Exalted Name Showed No Interest in the Abundant Vegetation
And How My Parents Were Occupied
And I Will Kill Her Children with Death (Part 164 / and I Will Kill Her Children with Death)
And I Will Kill Her Children with Death (Part 50 / and I Will Kill Her Children with Death)
And I Will Kill Her Children with Death
And Let the Misty Mountain-Winds Be Free
And Let the Misty Mountain-Winds Be Free
And Smoke from a Cigarette Called a Black Cat
And Still Where Many a Garden Flower Grows Wild
And What He Held Most Real Was but a Figment of the Dæmon of Distraught Mankind
And What My Lousy Childhood Was Like
And the Knights Come Down on Them, Faceless Men Clad in All Steel
And the Sunrise Brought with It the Wonderful Smell of Rotting Mangoes
And the Thousand Guises of the Word
Anyone Bored These Days Is Not Paying Attention
Arresting the Human Intelligence
As Barbed Wire in a Wasteland Landscape Attains a Loving Human Form
As Is a Landscape to a Blind Man's Eye
As Much a Danger As If Flowers Began to Flourish from Roadside Lumps of Debris
As Thick As Honeycomb/More Stinging Than Bees That Made 'Em
As, Pent in an Aquarium, the Troutlet Swims
Assemble the Great Among the Small and Earliest Creatures
Away with the Coverage on a Proper Siren's Cruise
Battles without Honor and Humanity
Be a Lightning Rod Than a Seismograph
Behind the Verdant Stage Wires of Her Theatrical Jungle
Beside Him a Great Ill-Favoured Jackanape
Between the Summerlit Trees in the Park, Watching Out for the Rapists
Blank Moments Torn from His Life and His Consciousness
Blood Spatters Will Paint Your Walls Red
Breaking into the Houses of Those That Refused Their Baptism
Buried in a Deep Pit, in a Doorless House
But Be Left His Harp of Magic, Left His Songs and Wisdom-Sayings
But I Don't Feel Like Going into It
But the Curse That He Carried Was Saving Him for a Purpose
Can't You See It's Foggy Outside?
Cankerous Little Bloodshot Rooster Pecking Away at the Dawn in the Empty Yard of Some Dead Fisherman
Carvings Will Cover Your Entire Person
Chance People on the Bridges to the Isle of Dogs
Colored Intestines Leaking Out Onto the Porcelain
Derision! There Was Still the Plunge into the Well
Distinguished by the Most Frank Attentions on the Part of His Honest Landlord
Dive Deeper, Ever Deeper, into the Abyss of Mind
Don't Worry, It's Just Sardonicism
Drink All Your Passion and Be a Disgrace
Due Yesterday or My Money Back
Eat Meat by the Quarter-Animal and Wine by the Hogshead
El Pico Posets O Punta De Llardana
Enormous Black Sky Streaked with Fistfuls of Congealed Fat
Even If I Die Here My Ghost Will Come to Fight Pepsi
Even the Most Blasphemous (They Are Smiling)
Every Frightful Convulsion Had Become No More Than a Ripple
Every Gallery Should Be Bulldozed and the Artists Should All Be Given Thirty Years Hard Labour
Everything That Was Supernatural Came Out of the Nile
Fairer Yet Through Sorrow and Separation
First Cheer: "Not Thirst in the Brain Black-Bitten, in the Soul More Sorely Smitten"
Flawed Conceptions of Absolute Space and Absolute Time
Flinders of Luminescent Gods Glimpsed Among the Wallpaper's Stained Foliage
Following Restless-Muscled RAF Dogs into the Plaster Smell
For Lucidity Destroys One's Equilibrium
For Thee the Bitterness of Death Is Past
Four Columns of Filth and a Hurricane of Black Pigeons That Putter in the Putrid Waters
Fourth Cheer: "At the End of Time and Space, the Haunt of a Face"
From Those Distant Abstract Spaces He Seemed to Be Looking Impersonally Down Upon His Own Body
From the Threshing Floor? from the Winepress?
Give No Quarter, Nor Waste Arguments
Glass Crashing in Sudden Showers When a Brick Was Hurled from the Street Below
Great Brown Dripping Box of the Lutheran Church Bereft of Sour Souls
Great Opportunities for Progression After Leaving the Flesh
Has the Swallow Come, the Harbringer of Spring?
He Made It to the Age of Torqueflite Radio
He Was No Better at Serving Hot Soup Than Driving a Car
He Wore Beautiful Suits and Did Not Yell at Waiters
Headlines Had the Same Disturbing Quality As His Personal Thoughts
Hell Is Empty, and All the Devils Are Here
Hello Bottle, My Old Friend (I've Come to Drink from You Again)
His Only Danger Is That His Pose May Unconsciously Become a Second Nature
I Am a Tiny, Neurotic Man, Standing in the Back of the Room Throwing Tomatoes at the Chalk Board
I Cannot Recall That Face I Looked for Everywhere Throughout My Adult Life
I Care No Longer for Your Petty Problems
I Don't Mind Being Bone and Feathers
I Have Perceiv'd That to Be with Those I Like Is Enough
I Love You Dad and I'm Glad You're in My Life
I Seem to Remember Being Unable to Do Anything at All but Think
I Should Have Thought It a Circle
I Stumble, I Stagger, I Stammer
I Swear There's a Ladder Outside the Window
I Watched You Enter Your Home from Inside a Dumpster
I Would Never Trade Your Broken Eyes or Your Pallor for the Beauty of All the Angels in Heaven
I'd Pretend I Was One of Those Deaf-Mutes
I'll Make My Blade the Last Thing You Ever See
I'll Make Your Children Suffer for What You Did to Me
I'll Set Fire to Your Home and Watch You Crawl Out, Ablaze
I'll Slit Your Wrist and Drink It
I'll Take Your Bones and Carve Them into Weapons to Kill Your Family
If You Really Want to Hear About It
Illumination Is Diffused Throughout the Off-White Haze
In All Creatures Are Lust and Hunger
In My Dreams, People Ask Me for Cigarettes and Change
In Our Oblivion We Will Avoid the Watchful Eyes of Stupid, Evil Peasants
In Which the Skyline Fades to the Metro Lights
In a Deep Hideous Purring Have Their Life
In the Chalky Smoke, Thinking of Those Ten Damned Lions
In the Meantime the Morphine Had Its Customary Effect
In the Talc-Fine Dust Beneath the Platform
Inflame Thyself in Praying, Pt. 2
Institut Geologii Arktiki Rocks
Internet Handle for a Thirteen Year Old Girl
Into the Moneyed Canyons of Pacific Palisades
It Bathes in the Steam of Spilt Blood
It Expands Itself in Painful Efforts to Make Fresh Material Organs
It Feels Its Memory Gradually Vanish As All Its Being Dissolves
It Floats About the Place Where the Pleasures of Its Life Elapsed
It Has Been My Unfortunate Experience That You Can't Rely on Divine Intervention
It Is the Restless Panting of Their Being
It Seemed Like the Sun Never Shone on the Firing Range
It Sits Looking Over Harbor and City
It Smells Like a Bag of Dead Cats
It Still Seeks the Objects of Its Passions
It Still Watches Over Treasures Which It Possessed and Buried
Its Former Vices Rise Up Before It and Assume Monstrous Shapes
Its Fragrance Which Met Him Like an Answering Caress
Joe Had Been a Regular Pot Smoker for Fifteen Years
Just in Time I Remembered That I'd Killed a Man
Karayuki-san, the Making of a Prostitute
Kneeling Thus on the Flagstone to Kindle the Fire
Laughing Out Loud at Roadrunner Cartoons and Complaining About French-Canadian Drivers
Laughing and Dancing in the Sunlight As Though There Was No Such Thing in Nature As the Night
Leaving the Mad Old Man There Beneath All the Fluorescent Tubes
Let Not Light See My Black and Deep Desires
Let the Smoke Teach You As Much As You Can Learn
Licorice Tobacco and a Seductive Fae with an Agenda
Like Beasts of Prey, Who, Caged Within Their Bars
Like Some Crazy South Korean Circus Clown
Live Forever or Die in the Attempt
Living on Candy Bars and Watching the Pigeons in a Back Alley with a French Name
Looking for the Crypt or the Granary in Which the Forgotten Parchment Must Lie
Lose Your Way Groping Among the Shadows of the Past
Lost, Lonely, Lifeless, Laconically Lazy
Lulled into Complacency by the Glitter of Our Own Achievements
Martyrs Go Hand in Hand into the Arena
Materialism Could Not Free Me from My Dread of Human Beings
May God Deal with Me, Be It Ever So Severely
Modern Music Is As Dangerous As C-
Moon Poison Burns in Our Veins Like an Incurable Disease
Morphine, Atromol, Narcopon, Philipon, Pantopon, Pabinal, Panopin, Atropin
Moss-Like Lichen or Something Similar Growing on the Side of the Steps
My Brain and My Heart Are My Temples
My Fire Is More Than Can Be Made with Forests
Never Was Gaunt Werewolf So Cruel, Never Hawk So Crazed for Blood
No Different Than the Way Worms Come from a Corpse
No Vendor in the Black Hovel Beyond the Bulb
Nobody Understands the Reason for These Indigent Sweepers Being Here
Not by the Token of This Faltering Breath
Not in the Shape of a Domestic Animal or a Wild Beast or Even a Human Being
Nothing Like a Good Hot Bath to Make One Feel Like a Parasite
Nothing but the Wind and the Shore and a Set of Black Oilskins
Notwithstanding the Illusion by Which We Want to Be Duped
Now to the Main the Burning Sun Descends
Obtaining Homochirality Through Stochastic Processes
Obtaining Stochasticity Through Homochiral Processes
Of Course You Know That God Created the Earth Only Six Thousand Years Ago
Of Thunder and Lightning, of Rain and Wind, of the Galaxies
Oh My Dearest Good-Fellow, You've Made This Old Tin Soldier Rather Happy
On Silent Haunches and Then Moves On
On the Seat in the Light of the Switchboard Bulb
On the Stair Leading Up into the Disinfectant-Smelling Twilight
One May Receive the Things Done in the Body
One Woman Can Make You Fly Like an Eagle
Only One Thing Appeared to Be Living Where the Moonlight Spread Across That Dead Field
Only Those with No Memory Insist on Their Originality
Opening My Eyes Had Seen a Man Like a Tree Surrounded by Other Trees Walking Away
Out of the Fog Rose a Tremendous Swelling Cry from Thousands of Throats
Part 2: Lift Your Legs to the Skies and Just Let Go
Part 3: Encounter Past Souls Amidst the Common Air
Part 5: Close Your Eyes and Be with the Void
Part 6: You Won't Need Your Bones Where You're Going
Part 7: Open Your Eyes, You're Almost There
Part 9: Made in Heaven, Made in Hell
Peasants Had Rooted Out the Weeds and Planted Fields of White Poppies
Permanence, Perseverance, and Persistence in Spite of All Obstacles
Photographed Like Two Sardonic White Ovals
Photographing a Lovely Mountaintop Locale for a Liquor-Store Calendar
Photographing a Lovely Mountaintop Locale for a Liquor-Store Calendar
Picking at a Clay Pot Full of Rice Pudding That the Soldiers Left Outside
Pitiless Light Over the Stony Landscape
Poke the Entrails of the Grunterranean Fire and Mutter Smoothing Pragnostications
Providing the Drug of Religious Hope to Timorous Folk Frightened of Hell-Fire
Race Downtown with Soap and Paint Thinner Instead of Freeing the Eagle
Receive the Supplication of a Dead Man's Hand
Regrets Take the Place of Dreams
Remember That All Men Are Strange
Second Cheer: "Beyond the Raging and Raving, Hell of the Physical Craving"
Sequoias of a Former Generation
Several Species of Small Furry Animals Gathered Together in a Cave and Grooving with a Pict
She Never Does Anything Mean to Little Dogs in the Lobby
Sing to the One Who Rides Across the Ancient Heavens
Six Times Had the Darkness Closed Over a Wild and Terrific Scene
So Drips the Lukewarm Water (Drowning Mix By)
So Fantastically Clouded by Smoke and Dust
Some Entwining Presence That We Always Know Is There
Some Tigers Stand Upright and Have Got Mustaches and They Is Good at Gambling
Something That Usually Holds Itself in Abeyance
Sometimes All the Freedom One Ever Has
Sometimes Falling Feels Like Flying
Sweeping All the Air Pollution Westward
Szeretlek, Te Mocskos Kis Kurva!
Tailgating My Daughter with Aspirations of Deflowering Her Rose
That No Human Word Would Ever Reach Me
That's How They Work It in Pluto's Thalassocracies
The Black Feathered Birds That Soared Straight from the Depths of Hell
The Chosen Priest and Apostle of Infinite Space
The Cornices Were Cracked and Blackened
The Cure for Boredom Is Curiosity
The Damaging Effect Electricity Has on Wood
The Eager Spirit Has Darted from My Hold
The Earth Has the Odor of Mushrooms
The End of the World Must Be Coming
The First Thing You'll Probably Want to Know
The Flies Would Drink His Blood As Though It Were Red Honey
The Fog Comes on Little Cat Feet
The Garlanded Goat and the Coven of Crones
The Hawthorn Bush with Seats Beneath the Shade
The Heart Shall Break into a Hundred Thousand Flaws
The House Opposite Had Grown Old and Dingy
The Martial Arts Champion Probably Would Have Gotten Drunk and Jump-Kicked a Deer
The Mongols Were Pagan, Neither Moslem Nor Christian
The Most Common Configuration Is to Have Two Panels
The Nuclear Explosion Precipitates a Vatican Decision
The Scandalous Adventures of Buraikan
The Skeleton King Is too Spook for Me!
The Smallest Portions of This Edifice
The Spiders' Webs Were Thicker Than Ever
The Stucco on the Columns Was Peeling Off and Crumbling
The Walls of a Vivid Deep Yellow Were Patchy
The Way the Night Hung Undisturbed with People Walking on It Like Some Quiet Rug
Their Hope Will Become a Dying Gasp
There Are False Muses Bending Before You in Fits of Laughter
There His Bark Be Firmly Anchored, Rested in His Boat of Copper
There Was Nothing Quite Like It
There Was a Pungent Smell of Moldering Leather and Old Wood and Stale Tobacco Smoke
There Will Never Be a Requiem for a Dream
They Are All People Who Are in Trouble About Something
They Did Not Move but Lay Like Fallen Marble Statues of Lovers
They Sold Scrambled Eggs to State Troopers
Third Cheer: "Lies, in the Brain Benumbed, an Abyss, Unmeasured, Unplumbed"
This Chill at Heart, This Dampness on My Brow
This Is Where the Stricken Bagpipes Blow
This Strange Island of Bitter Wind and Blighted Blueberries
Those Sickly-Sweet Papayas That Taste Like Pissy Pears
Those Who Dream by Day Are Cognizant of Many Things
Through a Set of Events or Incidents That Had Nothing to Do with Me
Tiny Old Fusty Fireplaces Packed with the Rank Odor of Urine and White Ash
To Rear and Train, by Sorrow and Pain
To Sing Well by Note, with Ease, and in Beautiful Style
Try Breathing Through Crushed Lungs
Turn the VX Gas in the Air Freshener Tube Back into Lavender Vapours
Turning to Deserts Our Best Pastured Mountains
Twitching His Long Bald Head at the Empty Doorway
Two Lanterns Swinging from the Stanchions Diffuse a Sudued Illumination
Two or Three Years Ago It Was Just Another Snake Cult
Two-Legged Tigers and Crocodiles
Under Capitalism, Under Communism
Under the Flag of the Rising Sun
Under the Large Lump of Material and Old Adhesive Tape in the Corner
Until I Started Leaning Toward the Sunlight
Until They Become Sober and Go Up to Their Resting Place
Usurp the Land and Dispossess the Swain
Veins Will Be Ripped Through Your Bare Skin
Viscera Will Be All That's Left
Vouchsafe Your Silent Ears to Plaining Music
We All Know That Art Is Not Truth
We Are All Drifting Reefwards Now
We Are Your Singing Garbage Men
We Have Your Babylons and Your Pompeiis, Your Caesar and Your Chromium-Plated Artifacts
We Have Your Bloody Hatchets and Your Hiroshimas
We Have Your Eoliths and Your Mesoliths and Your Neoliths
Well He'd Keep Pestering Me, and Then I Guess He'd Die, Therefore a Small Victory on My Part
Werd on the Boa Home Slikkity Slizzice in Da Heezie Weezie
When We Embrace the Sea-Stript Dead Wher'l They Be?
When You're Dead You Might Still Go on Hurting
When the Guard Walked Up and Pulled Out His Cannon
When the High-Minded Chatter Rushed on As Though She Was Not There
Whether It Is the Wind That Bends the Blade of Grass or the Blade of Grass That Bends the Wind
Whispering to Myself Delicious, Terrible Things
Whosoever Drinketh of This Water Shall Thirst Again
With the Finality of Rolling a Rock Over the Mouth of a Tomb
With the Marvelous Dry Morality of Calico and Beans and Lard
Would He Make Arrangements for the Continuing of His Mother's Grave
Writhing in Groves Where Flowers Have Fallen Into
Yet Even That Enemy of God and Man Had Friends and Associates in His Desolation
You Carved Cameos Upon the Sea
You Don't Even Know Your Own Name
You Feel a Stillness All Around You, Caressing Your Face
You Have Some Queer Friends, Dorothy
lcm(2,3,5,7,11,13,17,19,23,29,31,37,41,43,47,53,59,61,67,71)