Angels, We Have Grown Apart.

That Your Power Of Command With Simple Language Was One Of The Magnificent Things Of Our Century. (from The Poem: Result)

My Body Gnaws At Me From One Side And My Spirit Gnaws At Me From The Other.

Do Some Living And Get Yourself A Typewriter.

Places To Hunt Places To Hide Are Getting Harder To Find, And Pet Canaries And Goldfish Too, Did You Notice That?

One Can Never Be Sure Whether It's Good Poetry Or Bad Acid