I Will Go To The Garden. I

O Love, Where Are You Leading Me Now?

Form Is Never More Than An Extension Of Content.

No Matter How Wild Reality Was Obviously Often Being, It Was An Absolutely Secure Place, As A Tone And Intelligence, And A Thing Happening.

Comes The Time When It's Later And Onto Your Table The Headwaiter Puts The Bill

I Know This Body Is Impatient. I Know I Constitute Only A Meager Voice And Mind. Yet I Loved, I Love. I Want No Sentimentality. I Want No More Than Home.