Oh! To Be A Flower Nodding In

Rapture's Self Is Three Parts Sorrow.

Happiness: We Rarely Feel It. I Would Buy It, Beg It, Steal It, Pay In Coins Of Dripping Blood For This One Transcendent Good.

Polyphonic Prose Is A Kind Of Free Verse, Except That It Is Still Freer. Polyphonic Makes Full Use Of Cadence, Rime, Alliteration, Assonance.

Sexual Love Is The Most Stupendous Fact Of The Universe, And The Most Magical Mystery Our Poor Blind Senses Know.

I Am Tired, Beloved, Of Chafing My Heart Against The Want Of You; Of Squeezing It Into Little Inkdrops, And Posting It.