His Lips Drink Water But His Heart

...losing Through You What Seemed Myself, I Find Selves Unimaginably Mine; Beyond Sorrow's Own Joys And Hopings Very Fears Yours Is The Light By Which My Spirit's Born: Yours Is The Darkness Of My Soul's Return... You Are My Sun, My Moon, And All My Stars.

What If A Dawn Of A Doom Of A Dream Bites This Universe In Two, Peels Forever Out Of His Grave, And Sprinkles Nowhere With Me And You?

O Sweet Spontaneous Earth How Often Have The Doting Fingers Of Prurient Philosophers Pinched And Poked Thee ,has The Naughty Thumb Of Science Prodded Thy Beauty .how Often Have Religions Taken Thee Upon Their Scraggy Knees Squeezing And Buffeting Thee That Thou Mightest Conceive Gods (but True To The Incomparable Couch Of Death Thy Rhythmic Lover Thou Answerest Them Only With Spring)

I Remember We All Cried Like The Missouri When My Uncle Sol's Coffin Lurched Because Somebody Pressed A Button (and Down Went My Uncle Sol And Started A Worm Farm)

Progress Is A Comfortable Disease.