Life Will Break You. Nobody Can Protect

Ravens Are The Birds I'll Miss Most When I Die. If Only The Darkness Into Which We Must Look Were Composed Of The Black Light Of Their Limber Intelligence. If Only We Did Not Have To Die At All. Instead, Become Ravens.

I Want To Remember What Bullshit Looks Like When Weapons Of Mass Destruction Are Diagrammed Out And Whacko "intelligence" Is Delivered In An Ominous Way To Strike Fear Into People And Especially To Pull On The Idealism And Zeal Of The Young.

Old Love, Middle Love, The Kind Of Love That Knows Itself And Knows That Nothing Lasts, Is A Desperate Shared Wildness.

I Think One Of The Most Fertile, Unexplored Areas For Poets And Fiction Writers Is The World Of Science. I Become Overwhelmed By The Science World.

I Stood There In The Shadowed Doorway Thinking With My Tears. Yes, Tears Can Be Thoughts, Why Not?