Should We Say The Self, Once Perceived,

I Can Hear, Underground, That Sucking And Sobbing, In My Veins, In My Bones I Feel It,- The Small Water Seeping Upward, The Tight Grains Parting At Last. When Sprouts Break Out, Slippery As Fish, I Quail, Lean To Beginnings, Sheath-wet.

What Is Madness But Nobility Of Soul At Odds With Circumstance?

The Body And The Soul Know How To Play In That Dark World Where Gods Have Lost Their Way.

Love Begets Love. This Torment Is My Joy.

In Our Age, If A Boy Or Girl Is Untalented, The Odds Are In Favor Of Their Thinking They Want To Write.