'...Please, I wish to live. How might I live?' Put Marx through your labia. '...I have Popper(s), ideating on. Any good?'. Hardly; fit only for some alphabet of allegations. Insert Karl into the primal fuzz of your sex. '...I pissed on those men. They paid me. I did it for Communism...'. Yes, yes... But think only now of Marx as dildo, up the arse, round the rear, fretting up, no lube. '...I named my wife, Finland Station...'. On your belly; fold the pamphlet to your face. Do you cross-dress? I mean do you pose in any way on crosses? '...I tend to, but without warning, and only in red rags as a bull...'. This denotes your starting point. Can you see that? '...I know only that, in posing so, I am baying for blood...'.