I've Been Born, And Once Is Enough.

Birth, And Copulation, And Death; That's All The Facts When You Come To Brass Tacks.

The Yellow Fog That Rubs Its Back Upon The Window-panes The Yellow Smoke That Rubs Its Muzzle On The Window-panes Licked Its Tongue Into The Corners Of The Evening Lingered Upon The Pools That Stand In Drains Let Fall Upon Its Back The Soot That Falls From Chimneys Slipped By The Terrace, Made A Sudden Leap And Seeing That It Was A Soft October Night Curled Once About The House, And Fell Asleep

Let Us Go Then, You And I, When The Evening Is Spread Out Against The Sky

When Comparing Works Of Art, It Is Important That The Art Itself, And Not The Artists, Be Considered.

And The End And The Beginning Were Always There Before The Beginning And After The End.