This Morning I Deleted The

Your Dollar Is Your Only Word, / The Wrath Of It Your Only Fear. / You Build It Altars Tall Enough / To Make You See, But Your Are Blind; / You Cannot Leave It Long Enough / To Look Before You Or Behind.

Youth Sees Too Far To See How Near It Is To Seeing Farther.

For When A Woman Is Left Too Much Alone, Sooner Or Later She Begins To Think; And No Man Knows What Then She May Discover.

Two Kinds Of Gratitude: The Sudden Kind We Feel For What We Take; The Larger Kind We Feel For What We Give.

Are We No Greater Than The Noise We Make Along One Blind Atomic Pilgrimage Whereon By Crass Chance Billeted We Go Because Our Brains And Bones And Cartilage Will Have It So?