The Canadian Voice Is Still

My Life Has Been Given Its Orders: The Seasons Seize The Soul And The Body, And Make Mock Of Any Dispersed Effort. The Hour Of Death Is The Only Trespass

The Canadian Voice Is Still Too Rustic.

Knowledge Is The Harvest Of Attention

Not One Death But Many, Not Accumulation But Change, The Feed-back Proves, The Feed-back Is The Law

What Pudor Pejorocracy Affronts How Awe, Night-rest And Neighborhood Can Rot What Breeds Where Dirtiness Is Law What Crawls Below