Wars Happen Because The Ones Who Start

You Might 'write From The Heart,' But You'd Better Polish With Your Brain.

What Is The Real Breath Of A Man — The Breathing Out Or The Breathing In?

He Stops, Looks Up At This Window, And I Can See The White Oblong Of His Face. We Look At Each Other. I Have No Rose To Toss, He Has No Lute. But It's The Same Kind Of Hunger.

The Darkness Is Really Out There. It's Not Something That's In My Head, Just. It's In My Work Because It's In The World.

A Hot Wind Was Blowing Around My Head, The Strands Of My Hair Lifting And Swirling In It, Like Ink Spilled In Water.