Whenever Books Are Burned, Men Also In

Christ Rode On An Ass, But Now Asses Ride On Christ.

Each Violet Peeps From Its Dwelling To Gaze At The Bright Stars Above.

Lo, Sleep Is Good, Better Is Death--in Sooth The Best Of All Were Never To Be Born.

So We Keep Asking, Over And Over,until A Handful Of Earthstops Our Mouths -but Is That An Answer?

There Is No Sixth Commandment In Art. The Poet Is Entitled To Lay His Hands On Whatever Material He Finds Necessary For His Work.