All Theological Lore Is Becoming Distasteful To

The Young Soldier It Is Not Death Without Hereafter To One In Dearth Of Life And Its Laughter, Nor The Sweet Murder Dealt Slow And Even Unto The Martyr Smiling At Heaven: It Is The Smile Faint As A (waning) Myth, Faint, And Exceeding Small On A Boy's Murdered Mouth.

I, Too, Saw God Through Mud

Be Bullied, Be Outraged, By Killed, But Do Not Kill.

Whatever Mourns When Many Leave These Shores: Whatever Shares The Eternal Reciprocity Of Tears.

I Was A Boy When I First Realized That The Fullest Life Liveable Was A Poet's