In The Kingdom Of Bang And Blab.

I Wish I Could Find An Event That Meant As Much As Simple Seeing.

I Am Overwhelmed By The Beautiful Disorder Of Poetry, The Eternal Virginity Of Words.

The Indignity Of It!- With Everything Blooming Above Me, Lilies, Pale-pink Cyclamen, Roses, Whole Fields Lovely And Inviolate,- Me Down In The Fetor Of Weeds, Crawling On All Fours, Alive, In A Slippery Grave.

Nothing Would Give Up Life: Even The Dirt Keeps Breathing A Small Breath.

A Terrible Violence Of Creation,a Flash Into The Burning Heart Of The Abominable;yet If We Wait, Unafraid, Beyond The Fearful Instant,the Burning Lake Turns Into A Forest Pool,the Fire Subsides Into Rings Of Water,a Sunlit Silence.