Time Is A Sandpile We Run Our

The Marvelous Rebellion Of Man At All Signs Reading "keep Off.

Arithmetic Is Where Numbers Fly Like Pigeons In And Out Of Your Head.

Corn Wind In The Fall, Come Off The Black Lands, Come Off The Whisper Of The Silk Hangers, The Lap Of The Flat Spear Leaves.

Out Of Great Russia Came Three Dusky Syllables Workmen Took Guns And Went Out To Die For: Bread, Peace, Land.

Lay Me On An Anvil, O God. Beat Me And Hammer Me Into A Steel Spike.