What Is The Fear Inside

I Am A Drop Of Gold He Would Say I Am Molten Matter Returned From The Core Of Earth To Tell You Interior Things-

That Night We Made Love "the Real Way" Which We Had Not Yet Attempted Although Married Six Months. Big Mystery. No One Knew Where To Put Their Leg And To This Day I'm Not Sure We Got It Right. He Seemed Happy. You're Like Venice He Said Beautifully. Early Next Day I Wrote A Short Talk ("on Defloration") Which He Stole And Had Published In A Small Quarterly Magazine. Overall This Was A Characteristic Interaction Between Us. Or Should I Say Ideal. Neither Of Us Had Ever Seen Venice.

If Your Way Of Life Is Writing, Then Everything That Happens Becomes A Sentence.

Words Bounce. Words, If You Let Them, Will Do What They Want To Do And What They Have To Do.

The Presocratic Problem [all Snap Flags] Parmenides Named His Gun The Hot Power Of The Stars. His Gun Was One, Uncreated, Imperishable, Timeless, Changeless, Perfect, Spherical. Spherical Was The Problem.