What's Missing Is The Eyeballs In Each

My Business Is Words. Words Are Like Labels, Or Coins, Or Better, Like Swarming Bees.

Let The Light Be Called Day So That Men May Grow Corn Or Take Busses.

... And My Love Stays Bitterly Glowing, Spasms Of It Will Not Sleep, And I Am Helpless And Thirsty And Need Shade But There Is No One To Cover Me- Not Even God.

The Windows, The Starving Windows That Drive The Trees Like Nails Into My Heart.

The Tongue, The Chinese Say, Is Like A Sharp Knife: It Kills Without Drawing Blood.