A Dimwit Thinks Nothing Is Funny Unless

The Poets Continually And Sometimes Wilfully Mistake Love. Love Is The Old Slaughterer.

All You Imagined, No Matter How Wild It Might Seem, Was No More Than A Disguised Version Of What You Already Knew.

She Is A Cat With A Burning Tail, An Ant Under A Microscope, A Fly About To Lose Its Wings To The Curious Plucking Fingers Of A Third-grader On A Rainy Day, A Game For Bored Children With No Bodies And The Whole Universe At Their Feet.

The Look Of The Sky As The Day's Blue Blood Runs Out Of Its Cheek.

His Name Is Legion. He Is The King Of Nowhere.