Those Blessed Structures, Plot And Rhyme-- Why

I Will Catch Christ With A Greased Worm, And When The Prince Of Darkness Stalks My Bloodstream To Its Stygian Term . . . On Water The Man-fisher Walks.

But Sometimes Everything I Write With The Threadbare Art Of My Eye Seems A Snapshot

The Lord Survives The Rainbow Of His Will.

Those Blessed Structures, Plot And Rhyme-- Why Are They No Help To Me Now I Want To Make Something Imagined, Not Recalled?

The Scythers, Time And Death, Helmed Locusts, Move Upon The Tree Of Breath