Everyone Loves The Dream But

At The Breakfast Table We Are Footnoting Everything That We Read. We Don't Recognise It As Such But We Encounter An Article In The Newspaper And Then Suddenly We Recall That A Friend Had A Certain Comment On That Particular Story, A Certain Bit Of News That We Saw On The Television Applies To That And We Immediately Assemble An Idea Of A Story.

Have No Fear, You Will Find Your Way. It's In Your Bones. It's In Your Soul.

The Ruminations Are Mine, Let The World Be Yours.

I Think That's What Finally Stopped Me. I Slid Right To The Edge. My Legs Were Hanging Over. And I Could Feel It Too. I Don't Know How. There Was No Wind, No Sound, No Change Of Temperature. There Was Just This Terrible Emptiness Reaching Up For Me.

Very Soon He Will Vanish Completely In The Wings Of His Own Wordless Stanza. [ ] But His Stanza Is Not Completely Empty [ * ]