Once One Has Seen God, What Is

A Million Years Of Evolution, Eric Said Bitterly, And What Are We? Animals.

I Don't See,' I Said, 'how People Stand Being Old. Your Insides All Dry Up. When You're Young You're So Self-reliant. You Don't Even Need Much Religion.

Winter Dawn Is The Color Of Metal, The Trees Stiffen Into Place Like Burnt Nerves.

Oh What A Poet I Will Flay Myself Into.

Is Anyone Anywhere Happy?