Love, Our Subject: We've Trained

A Revolutionary Poem Will Not Tell You Who Or When To Kill, What And When To Burn, Or Even How To Theorize. It Reminds You... Where And When And How You Are Living And Might Live, It Is A Wick Of Desire.

We Who Were Loved Will Never Unlive That Crippling Fever.

The Liar Often Suffers From Amnesia. Amnesia Is The Silence Of The Unconscious.

All New Learning Looks At First Like Chaos.

Poems Are Like Dreams: In Them You Put What You Don't Know You Know.