If You Expect Nothing From Anybody, You’re

Poetry, I Feel, Is A Tyrannical Discipline, You've Got To Go So Far, So Fast, In Such A Small Space That You've Just Got To Turn Away All The Peripherals.

And I Sit Here Without Identity: Faceless. My Head Aches.

Sunday-the Doctor's Paradise! Doctors At Country Clubs, Doctors At The Seaside, Doctors With Mistresses, Doctors With Wives, Doctors In Church, Doctors In Yachts, Doctors Everywhere Resolutely Being People, Not Doctors.

I Am Silver And Exact.i Have No Preconceptions.

A Ring Of Gold With The Sun In It? Lies. Lies And A Grief.