A Politician Is An Arse Upon Which

My Mother Hoped That I Would Die Etcetera Bravely Of Course My Father Used To Become Hoarse Talking About How It Was A Privilege And If Only He Could

A Wind Has Blown The Rain Away And Blown The Sky Away And All The Leaves Away, And The Trees Stand. I Think, I Too, Have Known Autumn Too Long.

God's Terrible Face Brighter Than A Spoon Collects The Image Of One Fatal Word;so That My Life(which Liked The Sun And The Moon)resembles Something That Has Not Occurred:i Am A Birdcage Without Any Bird A Collar Looking For A Dog A Kisswithout Lips;a Prayer Lacking Any Kneesbut Something Beats Within My Shirt To Provehe Is Undead Who Living Noone Is.i Have Never Loved You Dear As Now I Love.

Sweet Springtime Is My Time Is Your Time Is Our Time For Springtime Is Love Time And Viva Sweet Love.

Always The Beautiful Answer Who Asks A More Beautiful Question.