Peering From Some High Window; At The

Lovers Alone Wear Sunlight.

If You Like My Poems Let Them Walk In The Evening, A Little Behind You

As Small As A World As Large As Alone.

Humanity I Love You Because You Are Perpetually Putting The Secret Of Life In Your Pants And Forgetting It's There And Sitting Down On It And Because You Are Forever Making Poems In The Lap Of Death Humanity I Hate You

The Artist Is Not A Man Who Describes, But A Man Who Feels.