You Can't Write Poems About Trees When

Their Peace And Their War Are Like Wind And Storm. War Grows From Their Peace.

It Was Never Decreed That A God Mustn't Pay Hotel Bills.

I Don't Trust Him. We're Friends.

In The Contradiction Lies The Hope.

Here Today We Huddle Tight As The Darkest Heathens Might The Snow Falls Chilly On Our Skin The Snow Is Forcing Its Way In. Hush, Snow, Come In With Us To Dwell: We Were Thrown Out By Heaven As Well.