Man, he was hotter than a two dollar pistol when he was young. And yes, he was a foul racist blatherer sometimes with skewed up ideas about economics, but he was a damned fine poet. I can’t remember where I scanged this from.
I’m off to see Persepolis this aft with Keith, and afterwards I’m calling daughter Katie and dragging her over here for a massage. She sounds beat, baffed, bent, bewildered and entirely tharn.
