Moby Dick by Henry Rollins. Call me Ishmael. Manhattan before Woody, Rudy, and 9/11. Rock, rock, Rockaway Beach. Queequeg, my bro, would ya please remove that harpoon from my snuffbox? Heh heh heh. Where oh where is Tarshish, a.k.a Cadiz? Side one of Milestones, no, Miles Ahead. Jonah Jones. Ivory and ebonite. Red flag of amphetamine. Mateys! Ahab the Ayrab, bleep of the burning sands. The leg, the peg, the egg over e-z. Starbuck, my coffee, s’il vous plop. Exile from bloody Christendom. A splash of sperm, just a splash. Pippi Longstocking’s muff. “A kitchen sink—of bathtub proportions.” Hot tub as big as Orson Welles. Surprise quiz: Name, if you will, the Seven Seas. Red, Black, Brown, Beige, Salton, Zuider, Of Love. One whale’s wiener (p. 519). Listen my friends, listen my freh-enz! Skip Spence, Bob Mosley of the U.S. Marines. Thar s/he blows. A coffin for Dimitrios. Black flag of Black Flag. S. Clay Wilson, where’s yer pencil? Mr. Pettibon? (To be continued.)

Henry Rollins plays the Moore Theatre. 8 p.m. Fri., Jan. 10. $21-23.50