I Was Overcome With An Attack Of

The Scythers, Time And Death, Helmed Locusts, Move Upon The Tree Of Breath

In The End, Every Hypochondriac Is His Own Prophet.

It's The Light Of The Oncoming Train.

I Want To Apologize For Plaguing You With So Many Telephone Calls Last November And December. When The 'enthusiasm' Is Coming On Me It Is Accompanied By A Feverish Reaching Out To My Friends. After Its Over I Wince And Wither.

We Are All Old-timers, Each Of Us Holds A Locked Razor.