How Some Of The Writers I Come

That Was Youth With Its Reckless Exuberance When All Things Were Possible Pursued By Age Where We Are Now, Looking Back At What We Destroyed, What We Tore Away From That Self Who Could Do More, And Its Work That's Become My Enemy Because That's What I Can Tell You About, That Youth Who Could Do Anything.

I See The Player Piano As The Grandfather Of The Computer, The Ancestor Of The Entire Nightmare We Live In, The Birth Of The Binary World Where There Is No Option Other Than Yes Or No And Where There Is No Refuge.

What's Any Artist, But The Dregs Of His Work? The Human Shambles That Follows It Around. What's Left Of The Man When The Work's Done But A Shambles Of Apology.

How Real Is Any Of The Past, Being Every Moment Revalued To Make The Present Possible.

How Some Of The Writers I Come Across Get Through Their Books Without Dying Of Boredom Is Beyond Me.