My Sleeping Pill Is White. It Is

Only My Books Anoint Me, And A Few Friends, Those Who Reach Into My Veins.

Let There Be A Heaven So That Man May Outlive His Grasses.

All In All, I'd Say, The World Is Strangling.

I Would Like To Bury All The Hating Eyes Under The Sand Somewhere.

My Ideas Are A Curse. They Spring From A Radical Discontent With The Awful Order Of Things. I Play Clown. I Play Carpenter. I Play Nurse. I Play Witch.