Love Begets Love. This Torment Is My

I Can't Go On Flying Apart Just For Those Who Want The Benefit Of A Few Verbal Kicks. My God, Do You Know What Poems Like That Cost? They're Not Written Vicariously: They Come Out Of Actual Suffering, Real Madness.

I Bleed My Bones, Their Marrow To Bestowupon That God Who Knows What I Would Know.

In The Kingdom Of Bang And Blab.

The Darkness Has It's Own Light.

So Much Of Adolescence Is An Ill-defined Dying, An Intolerable Waiting, A Longing For Another Place And Time, Another Condition.