He was a poet and hated the approximate.
He was a poet and hated the approximate.
A Dream In visions of the dark night I have dreamed of joy departed- But a waking dream of life…
He trusted neither of them as far as he could spit, and he was a poor spitter, lacking both distance…
An Epilogue I have seen flowers come in stony places And kind things done by men with ugly faces, And…