I Cried Over Beautiful Things, Knowing No

My Name Is Truth And I Am The Most Elusive Captive In The Universe.

Out Of Great Russia Came Three Dusky Syllables Workmen Took Guns And Went Out To Die For: Bread, Peace, Land.

You Know Being Born Is Important To You. You Know Nothing Else Was Ever So Important To You.

The Dead Hold In Their Hands Only What They Have Given Away.

Poetry Is A Type-font Design For An Alphabet Of Fun, Hate, Love, Death.