Just When I Thought There

If You Need A Certain Vitality You Can Only Supply It Yourself, Or There Comes A Point, Anyway, When No One's Actions But Your Own Seem Dramatically Convincing And Justifiable In The Plot That The Number Of Your Days Concocts.

Much That Is Beautiful Must Be Discarded So That We May Resemble A Taller Impression Of Ourselves.

Things Can Harden Meaningfully In The Moment Of Indecision

There Is The View That Poetry Should Improve Your Life. I Think People Confuse It With The Salvation Army.

Therefore Bivouac We On This Great, Blond Highway, Unimpeded By Veiled Scruples, Worn Conundrums. Morning Is Impermanent. Grab Sex Things, Swing Up Over The Horizon Like A Boy On A Fishing Expedition.