In the acrid twilight vestibule of weary mental temples yellow is the favored color of the schollary synapses. Marooned in vacant swamps, vainly cultivated in shadowed cypress, they trip and stumble towards the yellow of a suspicous sun. With tears spawned of green acid sidewalks, and street lamps of prophetic illumination, it is no wonder that they can't find their way through the grungy hardness of these alleys to the garden.
