Nothing Could Have Survived Our Life.

And, Joey, If You Ever Want To Know About The Japonicas And The Daisy Fields It Will Be Alright That You Have Forgotten Because I Will Be Able To Tell You About How It Felt To Be Feeling That Way You Cannot Quite Remember – That Will Be For The Time When Something Happens Years From Now That Reminds You Of Now.

Life Has Puffed And Blown Itself Into A Summer Day, And Clouds And Spring Billow Over The Heavens As If Calendars Were A Listing Of Mathematical Errors.

I Don’t Suppose I Really Know You Very Well - But I Know You Smell Like The Delicious Damp Grass That Grows Near Old Walls And That Your Hands Are Beautiful Opening Out Of Your Sleeves And That The Back Of Your Head Is A Mossy Sheltered Cave When There Is Trouble In The Wind And That My Cheek Just Fits The Depression In Your Shoulder.

A Southern Moon Is A Sodden Moon, And Sultry. When It Swamps The Fields And The Rustling Sandy Roads And The Sticky Honeysuckle Hedges In Its Sweet Stagnation, Your Fight To Hold On To Reality Is Like A Protestation Against A First Waft Of Ether.

The Purpose Of Life On Earth Is That The Soul Should Grow - So Growl By Doing What Is Right.