A Man Moves Through Time.

Life Pulls Softly Inside Your Bindings. The Pod Glows - Dear Stench.

They Were Two Superior Eels At The Bottom Of The Tank And They Recognized Each Other Like Italics.

A Thinking Mind Is Not Swallowed Up By What It Comes To Know. It Reaches Out To Grasp Something Related To Itself And To Its Present Knowledge (and So Knowable In Some Degree) But Also Separate From Itself And From Its Present Knowledge (not Identical With These). In Any Act Of Thinking, The Mind Must Reach Across This Space Between Known And Unknown, Linking One To The Other But Also Keeping Visible To Difference. It Is An Erotic Space.

You Used To Say. "desire Doubled Is Love And Love Doubled Is Madness." Madness Doubled Is Marriage I Added When The Caustic Was Cool, Not Intending To Produce A Golden Rule.

There Are Different Gradations Of Personhood In Different Poems. Some Of Them Seem Far Away From Me And Some Up Close, And The Up-close Ones Generally Don't Say What I Want Them To Say. And That's True Of The Persona In The Poem Who's Lamenting This As A Fact Of A Certain Stage Of Life. But It's Also True Of Me As Me.