Love, Love, I Have Hung Our Cave

No Day Is Safe From News Of You.

A Million Years Of Evolution, Eric Said Bitterly, And What Are We? Animals.

I Must Be Lean & Write & Make Worlds Beside This To Live In.

It Won't Happen Yet, Ellen Mused, Mashing Cooked Carrots For Jill's Lunch. Breakups Seldom Do. It Will Unfold Slowly, One Little Tell-tale Symptom After Another Like Some Awful, Hellish Flower.

Don't Talk To Me About The World Needing Cheerful Stuff! What The Person Out Of Belsen Physical Or Psychological Wants Is Nobody Saying The Birdies Still Go Tweet-tweet, But The Full Knowledge That Somebody Else Has Been There And Knows The Worst, Just What It Is Like.