Life Is Like An Onion. You Peel

My Room For Books And Study Or For Sitting And Thinking About Nothing In Particular To See What Would Happen Was At The End Of A Hall.

Let Your Heart Look On White Sea Spray And Be Lonely. Love Is A Fool Star. You And A Ring Of Stars May Mention My Name And Then Forget Me. Love Is A Fool Star.

Corn Wind In The Fall, Come Off The Black Lands, Come Off The Whisper Of The Silk Hangers, The Lap Of The Flat Spear Leaves.

Poetry Is An Enumeration Of Birds, Bees, Babies, Butterflies, Bugs, Bambinos, Babayagas, And Bipeds, Beating Their Way Up Bewildering Bastions.

There Are Men And Women So Lonely They Believe God, Too, Is Lonely.