The Facts Of History Have Been Too

The Facts Of History Have Been Too Well Rehearsed.

Not Until It Starts To Stink Does The Inevitable Happen.

I Want A Bedroom Near The Sky, An Astrologer's Cave Where I Can Fashion Eclogues That Are Chaste And Grave.

I Like Poems You Can Tack All Over With A Hammer And There Are No Hollow Places.

In The Increasingly Convincing Darkness The Words Become Palpable, Like A Fruit That Is Too Beautiful To Eat.