Reality Is A Sound, You Have To

You Remember Too Much," My Mother Said To Me Recently. "why Hold Onto All That?" And I Said, "where Can I Put It Down?

Here We Go Mother On The Shipless Ocean. Pity Us, Pity The Ocean, Here We Go.

I Never Had Much Education In English Poetry As Such.

Words Bounce. Words, If You Let Them, Will Do What They Want To Do And What They Have To Do.

Now Every Mortal Has Pain And Sweat Is Constant, But If There Is Anything Dearer Than Being Alive, It's Dark To Me. We Humans Seem Disastrously In Love With This Thing (whatever It Is) That Glitters On The Earth-- We Call It Life. We Know No Other. The Underworld's A Blank And All The Rest Just Fantasy.