Direct Me Gods, Whose Changes Are All

When I First Started Teaching At Berkeley In 1958, I Could Not Announce That I Was Gay To Anybody, Though Probably Quite A Few Of My Fellow Teachers Knew.

One Is Always Nearer By Not Keeping Still.

Direct Me Gods, Whose Changes Are All Holy, To Where It Flickers Deep In Grass, The Moly.

I Deliberately Wrote A Poem In My Last Book Where I Was Suggesting That There Are Other Passions As Great As Or More Important Than The Passion Of Sex.

My Thoughts Are Crowded With Death And It Draws So Oddly On The Sexual That I Am Confused To Be Attracted By, In Effect, My Own Annihilation.