One Must Be Drenched In Words, Literally

Stars Scribble On Our Eyes The Frosty Sagas, The Gleaming Cantos Of Unvanquished Space. (cape Hatteras

Love: A Burnt Match Skating In A Urinal.

The Form Of My Poem Rises Out Of A Past That So Overwhelms The Present With Its Worth And Vision That I'm At A Loss To Explain My Delusion That There Exist Any Real Links Between That Past And A Future Worthy Of It.

And So It Was I Entered The Broken World To Trace The Visionary Company Of Love, Its Voice An Instant In The Wind (i Know Not Whither Hurled) But Not For Long To Hold Each Desperate Choice.

And Inasmuch As The Bridge Is A Symbol Of All Such Poetry As I Am Interested In Writing It Is My Present Fancy That A Year From Now I'll Be More Contented Working In An Office Than Ever Before.