Their Monument Sticks Like A Fishbone In

Wallowing In This Bloody Sty, I Cast For Fish That Pleased My Eye

In The End, There Is No End.

Talking About The Past Is Like A Cat's Trying To Explain Climbing Down A Ladder.

History Has To Live With What Was Here, Clutching And Close To Fumbling All We Had - It Is So Dull And Gruesome How We Die, Unlike Writing, Life Never Finishes.

Most Poetry Is Very Formal, But When A Modern Poet Is Formal He Gets More Attention For It Than Old Poets Did.