To Put One Brick Upon

One Of The Quainter Quirks Of Life Is That We Shall Never Know Who Dies On The Dame Day As We Do Ourselves.

Uncontradicting Solitude Supports Me On Its Giant Palm; And Like A Sea-anemone Or Simple Snail, There Cautiously Unfolds, Emerges, What I Am.

Give Me A Thrill, Says The Reader, Give Me A Kick; I Don't Care How You Succeed, Or What Subject You Pick.

I Can't Understand These Chaps Who Go Round American Universities Explaining How They Write Poems: It's Like Going Round Explaining How You Sleep With Your Wife.

Here No Elsewhere Underwrites My Existence.