The Town Is Silent. The Night Boils

There Is Joy In All: In The Hair I Brush Each Morning, In The Cannon Towel, Newly Washed, That I Rub My Body With Each Morning.

The Town Is Silent. The Night Boils With Eleven Stars. Oh Starry Starry Night! This Is How I Want To Die.

The Beautiful Feeling After Writing A Poem Is On The Whole Better Even Than After Sex, And That's Saying A Lot.

Fee-fi-fo-fum - Now I'm Borrowed. Now I'm Numb.

All In All, I'd Say, The World Is Strangling.