I Want To Kiss God

Our Children Tremble In Their Teen-age Cribs, Whirling Off On A Thumb Or A Motorcycle.

Being Kissed On The Back Of The Knee Is A Moth At The Windowscreen.

The Town Is Silent. The Night Boils With Eleven Stars. Oh Starry Starry Night! This Is How I Want To Die.

Watch Out For Intellect, Because It Knows So Much It Knows Nothing And Leaves You Hanging Upside Down, Mouthing Knowledge As Your Heart Falls Out Of Your Mouth.

I Am Younger Each Year At The First Snow.