"It's dark out, Jack, the stations out there don't identify themselves, we're in it raw — blind like burned rats, it's running out all around us, the footprints of the beast, one nobody has any notion of. The white & vacant eyes of something above there, something that doesn't know we exist. I smell heartbreak up there, Jack, a heartbreak at the center of things, & in which we don't figure at all."
Kenneth Patchen, poet, born 100 years ago today.
"Mingus Ah Um", powerful back-up there.

Photograph and poem lifted from "anti-CopyRite" Daily Bleed.