Homer Must Have Felt This Pressure To

A Page With A Poem On It Is Less Attractive Than A Page With A Poem On It And Some Tea Stains.

Then A Miracle Occurred In The Form Of A Plate Of Sandwiches. Geryon Took Three And Buried His Mouth In A Delicious Block Of White Bread Filled With Tomatoes And Butter And Salt. He Thought About How Delicious It Was, How He Liked Slippery Foods, How Slipperiness Can Be Of Different Kinds. I Am A Philosopher Of Sandwiches, He Decided. Things Good On The Inside.

No Need To Fear Death. There Will Be A Tunnel And Light.

I Mean, Every Thought Starts Over, So Every Expression Of A Thought Has To Do The Same. Every Accuracy Has To Be Invented... I Feel I Am Blundering In Concepts Too Fine For Me.

Here We Go Mother On The Shipless Ocean. Pity Us, Pity The Ocean, Here We Go.