One Can't Have It Both

With The First Step, The Number Of Shapes The Walk Might Take Is Infinite, But Then The Walk Begins To Define Itself As It Goes Along, Though Freedom Remains Total With Each Step: Any Tempting Side Road Can Be Turned Into An Impulse, Or Any Wild Patch Of Woods Can Be Explored. The Pattern Of The Walk Is To Come True, Is To Be Recognized, Discovered.

Anything Looked At Closely Becomes Wonderful.

Anything Looked At Closely Becomes Wonderful.

Once Every Five Hundred Years Or So, A Summary Statement About Poetry Comes Along That We Can't Imagine Ourselves Living Without

Where But In The Very Asshole Of Comedown Is Redemption: As Where But Brought Low, Where But In The Grief Of Failure, Loss, Error Do We Discern The Savage Afflictions That Turn Us Around: Where But In The Arrangements Love Crawls Us Through