I Lose And Find Myself In The

I Can't Go On Flying Apart Just For Those Who Want The Benefit Of A Few Verbal Kicks. My God, Do You Know What Poems Like That Cost? They're Not Written Vicariously: They Come Out Of Actual Suffering, Real Madness.

Fear Was My Father, Father Fear. His Look Drained The Stones.

The Darkness Has It's Own Light.

Love Is Not Love Until Love's Vulnerable.

What Is Madness But Nobility Of Soul At Odds With Circumstance?