I'm One Of The Cliches That Has

Fact Is Based Upon Vulgar Matter.

One Perception Must Immediately And Directly Lead To A Further Perception

The Poem, For Me, Is Simply The First Sound Realized In The Modality Of Being.

What Can We Do When Even The Public Conveyances Sing? How Can We Go Anywhere, Even Cross-town How Get Out Of Anywhere

Dead, Hung Up Indoors, The Kingfisher Will Not Indicate A Favoring Wind, Or Avert The Thunderbolt.