I Inhabit The Wax Image

I Sank Back In The Gray, Plush Seat And Closed My Eyes. The Air Of The Bell Jar Wadded Round Me And I Couldn't Stir.

I Tried To Speak In A Cool, Calm Way, But The Zombie Rose Up In My Throat And Choked Me Off.

I Feel That Very Strongly: Having Been An Academic, Having Been Tempted By The Invitation To Stay On To Become A Ph.d., A Professor, And All That, One Side Of Me Certainly Does Respect All Disciplines, As Long As They Don't Ossify.

I Am But One More Drop In The Great Sea Of Matter, Defined, With The Ability To Realize My Existence.

There Is A Certain Unique And Strange Delight About Walking Down An Empty Street Alone.