Why Is It That Whenever I Hear

Even The Contemplative Life Is Only An Effort, Nora My Dear, To Hide The Body So The Feet Won’t Stick Out.

This Head Has Risen Above Its Hair In A Moment Of Abandon Known Only To Men Who Have Drawn Their Feet Out Of Their Boots To Walk Awhile In The Corridors Of The Mind.

New York Rose Out Of The Water Like A Great Wave That Found It Impossible To Return Again And So Remained There In Horror, Peering Out Of The Million Windows Man Had Caged It With.

Sleep Demands Of Us A Guilty Immunity.

No One Will Be Much Or Little Except In Someone Else's Mind, So Be Careful Of The Minds You Get Into.