Those Who Are Willing To

I Am Overwhelmed By The Beautiful Disorder Of Poetry, The Eternal Virginity Of Words.

The Poet: Would Rather Eat A Heart Than A Hambone.

Long Live The Weeds That Overwhelm My Narrow Vegetable Realm! The Bitter Rock, The Barren Soil That Force The Son Of Man To Toil; All Things Unholy, Marred By Curse, The Ugly Of The Universe.

Too Much Reality Can Be A Dazzle, A Surfeit;too Close Immediacy An Exhaustion

The Self Says, I Am; The Heart Says, I Am Less; The Spirit Says, You Are Nothing.