If The Day Ever Comes

Like A Piece Of Ice On A Hot Stove The Poem Must Ride On Its Own Melting.

Memento Mori And Obey The Lord. Art And Religion Love The Somber Chord.

And Of Course There Must Be Something Wrong In Wanting To Silence Any Song.

Modern Poets Talk Against Business, Poor Things, But All Of Us Write For Money. Beginners Are Subjected To Trial By Market.

I'm Not A Teacher, But An Awakener.