In Verse One Can Take Any Damn

The Curse Of Me And My Nation Is That We Always Think Things Can Be Bettered By Immediate Action Of Some Sort, Any Sort Rather Than No Sort.

The Individual Cannot Think And Communicate His Thought, The Governor And Legislator Cannot Act Effectively Or Frame His Laws Without Words, And The Solidity And Validity Of These Words Is In The Care Of The Damned And Despised Litterati...when Their Very Medium, The Very Essence Of Their Work, The Application Of Word To Thing Goes Rotten, I.e. Becomes Slushy And Inexact, Or Excessive Or Bloated, The Whole Machinery Of Social And Of Individual Thought And Order Goes To Pot.

The Image Is More Than An Idea. It Is A Vortex Or Cluster Of Fused Ideas And Is Endowed With Energy.

Small Talk Comes From Small Bones

See, They Return; Ah, See The Tentative Movements, And The Slow Feet, The Trouble In The Pace And The Uncertain Wavering! See, They Return, One, And By One, With Fear, As Half-awakened; As If The Snow Should Hesitate And Murmur In The Wind, And Half Turn Back.