Is It Not The Play Of The

Of Rhythm Is Image / Of Image Is Knowing / Of Knowing There Is / A Construct

I Take Space To Be The Central Fact To Man Born In America. I Spell It Large Because It Comes Large Here. Large And Without Mercy.

What Can We Do When Even The Public Conveyances Sing? How Can We Go Anywhere, Even Cross-town How Get Out Of Anywhere

What Pudor Pejorocracy Affronts How Awe, Night-rest And Neighborhood Can Rot What Breeds Where Dirtiness Is Law What Crawls Below

There Is A Grace Of Life Which Is Still Yours, My Dear Europe.