I Wish I Could Write A Beautiful

Most People Hew The Battlements Of Life From Compromise, Erecting Their Impregnable Keeps From Judicious Submissions, Fabricating Their Philosophical Drawbridges From Emotional Retractions And Scalding Marauders In The Boiling Oil Of Sour Grapes.

We Grew Up Founding Our Dreams On The Infinite Promise Of American Advertising.

They Hadn't Much Faith In Travel, Nor A Great Belief In A Change Of Scene As A Panacea For Spiritual Ills; They Were Simply Glad To Be Going.

Why Should All Life Be Work, When We All Can Borrow. Let's Think Only Of Today, And Not Worry About Tomorrow.

A Southern Moon Is A Sodden Moon, And Sultry. When It Swamps The Fields And The Rustling Sandy Roads And The Sticky Honeysuckle Hedges In Its Sweet Stagnation, Your Fight To Hold On To Reality Is Like A Protestation Against A First Waft Of Ether.