Great collection "picture poems" from the mighty Patchen. He was laid up in bed in constant pain due to a culmination of disease and the aftereffects of a terrible accident when he wrote and painted these. Most of the time refusing any medication for pain, knowing would dull his mind and mission. As he says in here, "this bedroom is a battlefield." 
 While I like some of his earlier work better, this definitely remains as a solid artifact of a stubborn bastards refusal to go gently into the good night.