The Sun Fades Like The Spreading Of

The Promise Of Learning Is A Delusion.... Tomorrow Would Alter The Sense Of What Had Already Been Learned, That The Learning Process Is Extended In This Way, So That From This Standpoint None Of Us Ever Graduates From College, For Time Is An Emulsion, And Probably Thinking Not To Grow Up Is The Brightest Kind Of Maturity For Us, Right Now At Any Rate.

The Evening Light Was Like Honey In The Trees When You Left Me And Walked To The End Of The Street Where The Sunset Abruptly Ended. The Wedding-cake Drawbridge Lowered Itself To The Fragile Forget-me-not Flower. You Climbed Aboard. Burnt Horizons Suddenly Paved With Golden Stones, Dreams I Had, Including Suicide, Puff Out The Hot-air Balloon Now. It Is Bursting, It Is About To Burst

So I Cradle This Average Violin That Knows Only Forgotten Showtunes, But Argues The Possibility Of Free Declamation Anchored To A Dull Refrain.

The Poem Is Sad Because It Wants To Be Yours, And Cannot Be.

Silly Girls Your Heads Full Of Boys