Even If The Last Move Did Not

In Off The Moors, Down Through The Mist Beams, God-cursed Grendel Came Greedily Loping.

The Whole Relationship Between A Writer's Spiritual/emotional Condition And The Kind Of Wordstuff And Form-making That's Going On In His Work Is An Interesting One. When I Was An Undergraduate, There Was A Glib Notion Around That There Was No Reason To Suppose A Bad Man Could Be A Good Writer.

Walk On Air Against Your Better Judgement.

My Body Was Braille For The Creeping Influences.

I Credit Poetry For Making This Space-walk Possible.