Why Is There Happiness And Comfort And

All I Want To Be Is Very Young Always And Very Irresponsible And To Feel That My Life Is My Own-to Live And Be Happy And Die In My Own Way To Please Myself

Death Is The Only Real Elegance.

Don't You Think I Was Made For You? I Feel Like You Had Me Ordered - And I Was Delivered To You - To Be Worn. I Want You To Wear Me, Like A Watch-charm Or A Buttonhole Bouquet.

The Sky Lay Over The City Like A Map Showing The Strata Of Things And The Big Full Moon Toppled Over In A Furrow Like The Abandoned Wheel Of A Gun Carriage On A Sunset Field Of Battle And The Shadows Walked Like Cats And I Looked Into The White And Ghostly Interior Of Things And Thought Of You And I Looked On Their Structural Outsides And Thought Of You And Was Lonesome.

And Only Weaklings...who Lack Courage And The Power To Feel They're Right When The Whole World Says They're Wrong, Ever Lose.