A Corpse Is What's Left

Why So Much Innuendo, Draped Like Ivy To Hide A Cesspool, When Everyone Knew The Cesspool Was There?

I Was Happy Enough; I Knew That During The Night The Whole City Might Go Up In Flames And All Its People Be Killed, But The Ravines, Houses, And Footpaths Would Wake In The Morning Calm And Unchanged.

It Is Not That The Child Lives In A World Of Imagination, But That The Child Within Us Survives And Starts Into Life Only At Rare Moments Of Recollection, Which Makes Us Believe, And It Is Not True, That, As Children, We Were Imaginative?

A Dream Is A Creation Of The Intelligence, The Creator Being Present But Not Knowing How It Will End.

I Spent The Whole Evening Sitting Before A Mirror To Keep Myself Company.