The Form Of My Poem Rises Out

Your Primary Presumption That The Bridge Was Proffered As An Epic Has No Substantial Foundation. You Know Quite Well That I Doubt That Our Present Stage Of Cultural Development Is So Ordered Yet As To Provide The Means Or Method For Such An Organic Manifestation As That.

One Must Be Drenched In Words, Literally Soaked In Them, To Have The Right Ones Form Themselves Into The Proper Pattern At The Right Moment.

Goodbye, Everybody! (suicide Note)

One Must Be Drenched In Words, Literally Soaked In Them.

Let My Lusts Be My Ruin, Then, Since All Else Is A Fake And A Mockery.