Children Use The Fist Until They Are

The Little Cares That Fretted Me, I Lost Them Yesterday Among The Fields Above The Sea, Among The Winds At Play.

But So Fair, She Takes The Breath Of Men Away Who Gaze Upon Her Unaware.

We Have Hearts Within, Warm, Live, Improvident, Indecent Hearts.

But The Child's Sob Curses Deeper In The Silence Than The Strong Man In His Wrath!

Don't Get Me Wrong-painting's All Right. But Now That We Have Photography, What's The Point?