So The Lover Must Struggle For Words.

The Rats Are Underneath The Piles/ The Jew Is Underneath The Lot.

The Endless Cycle Of Idea And Action, / Endless Invention, Endless Experiment, / Brings Knowledge Of Motion, But Not Of Stillness; / Knowledge Of Speech, But Not Of Silence; / Knowledge Of Words, And Ignorance Of The Word.

Sand. Everywhere. In The Bed, In The Shower, All Over The Floor. Grrrrr.

Immature Poets Imitate; Mature Poets Steal.

There Is One Who Remembers The Way To Your Door: Life You May Evade, But Death You Shall Not.