My Personal Hobbies Are Reading, Listening To

Hot Water Is My Native Element. I Was In It As A Baby, And I Have Never Seemed To Get Out Of It Ever Since.

The Poet Speaks To All Men Of That Other Life Of Theirs That They Have Smothered And Forgotten.

I Am An Unpopular Electric Eel Set In A Pond Of Goldfish.

The Busy Chatter Of The Heat Shrilled Like A Parakeet; And Shuddering At The Noonday Light The Dust Lay Dead And White As Powder On A Mummy's Face, Or Fawned With Simian Grace Round Booths With Many A Hard Bright Toy And Wooden Brittle Joy: The Cap And Bells Of Time The Clown That, Jangling, Whistled Down Young Cherubs Hidden In The Guise Of Every Bird That Flies; And Star-bright Masks For Youth To Wear, Lest Any Dream That Fare Bright Pilgrim Past Our Ken, Should See Hints Of Reality.

There Is No Truth. Only Points Of View.