How Sociable The Garden Was. We Ate

How Sociable The Garden Was. We Ate And Talked In Given Light. The Children Put Their Toys To Grass All The Warm Wakeful August Night.

Direct Me Gods, Whose Changes Are All Holy, To Where It Flickers Deep In Grass, The Moly.

Thus For Each Blunt-faced Ignorant One The Great Grey Rigid Uniform Combined Safety With Virtue Of The Sun. Thus Concepts Linked Like Chainmail In The Mind.

Deep Feeling Doesn't Make For Good Poetry. A Way With Language Would Be A Bit Of Help.

I Think Most Men, Heterosexual And Homosexual, Enjoy Being Considered Sexual Objects.