'cause Humans, Above All, Fear Intelligence. How

Those Who Are Driven By Poverty, Those Who're Free From Material Worries Hunger Exhausting Labor A Joyless Existence Ask The Same Question, The Question Of Meaning.

We Get On The Bandwagon In All Sorts Of Ways - You Know Minor Ways And Major Ways - Like What You've Just Encountered Which Isn't Censorship Exactly, It Was Something Sort Of Uglier In A Way.

Perhaps If Human Desire Is Said Out Loud, The Urban Planes, The Prisons, The Architectural Mirrors Will Take Off, As Airplanes Do. The Black Planes Will Take Off Into The Night Air And The Night Winds, Sliding Past And Behind Each Other, Zooming, Turning And Turning In The Redness Of The Winds, Living, Never To Return.

Murder Is A Dream Because Lack Is The Center Of Both.

The More Rapidly The Water Moves, The Lighter It Seems.