" . . . In the warm, dark, silent maw of the physical theater.", originally uploaded by gogoloopie.
"The assassin, in flight, gravitated with unconscious, instinctual insect ease, moth-like towards a zone of safety, haven from the swarming streets, quickly, he was devoured in the warm, dark, silent maw of the physical of the physical theater."
-Jim Morrison (The Lords And The New Creatures; Poems) :