Night Falls Fast. Today Is

Progress-progress Is The Dirtiest Word In The Language-who Ever Told Us- And Made Us Believe It-that To Take A Step Forward Was Necessarily, Was Always A Good Idea?

It's Not Love's Going Hurts My Days But That It Went In Little Ways.

I Dread No More The First White In My Hair, Or Even Age Itself, The Easy Shoe, The Cane, The Wrinkled Hands, The Special Chair: Time, Doing This To Me, May Alter Too My Anguish, Into Something I Can Bear

I Am Not A Tentative Person. Whatever I Do, I Give Up My Whole Self To It.

Please Don't Think Me Negligent Or Rude. I Am Both, In Effect, Of Course, But Please Don't Think Me Either.