So Secretly, Like Wrongs Hushed-up, They Went.

I Was A Boy When I First Realized That The Fullest Life Liveable Was A Poet's

I, Too, Saw God Through Mud

The Universal Pervasion Of Ugliness, Hideous Landscapes, Vile Noises, Foul Language...everything. Unnatural, Broken, Blasted; The Distortion Of The Dead, Whose Unburiable Bodies Sit Outside The Dug Outs All Day, All Night, The Most Execrable Sights On Earth. In Poetry We Call Them The Most Glorious.

And By His Smile, I Knew That Sullen Hall, By His Dead Smile I Knew We Stood In Hell.

And Some Cease Feeling Even Themselves Or For Themselves. Dullness Best Solves The Tease And Doubt Of Shelling