Too Much Reality Can Be

Pain Wanders Through My Bones Like A Lost Fire

In Our Age, If A Boy Or Girl Is Untalented, The Odds Are In Favor Of Their Thinking They Want To Write.

I Learned Not To Fear Infinity, The Far Field, The Windy Cliffs Of Forever, The Dying Of Time In The White Light Of Tomorrow, The Wheel Turning Away From Itself, The Sprawl Of The Wave, The On-coming Water.

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

Love Begets Love. This Torment Is My Joy.