Perhaps Poetry Will Be The Canary In

Sometimes It Is Necessary To Reteach A Thing Its Loveliness

The Rest Of My Days I Spend Wandering: Wondering What, Anyway, Was That Sticky Infusion, That Rank Flavor Of Blood, That Poetry, By Which I Lived?

The Only Sense We Still Respect Is Eyesight, Probably Because It Is So Closely Attached To The Brain. Go Into Any American House At Random, You Will Find Something - A Plastic Flower, False Tiles, Some Imitation Something - Something Which Can Be Appreciated As Material Only If Apprehended By Eyesight Alone. Don't We Go Sightseeing In Cars, Thinking We Can Experience A Landscape By Looking At It Through Glass?

Let Our Scars Fall In Love.

Never Mind. The Self Is The Least Of It. Let Our Scars Fall In Love.