I'm Trying To Climb Up Both Walls

What Can We Do When Even The Public Conveyances Sing? How Can We Go Anywhere, Even Cross-town How Get Out Of Anywhere

The Poem, For Me, Is Simply The First Sound Realized In The Modality Of Being.

Atlantis Will Rise Again.

There Is A Grace Of Life Which Is Still Yours, My Dear Europe.

The Body Whips The Soul. In Its Great Desire It Demands The Elixir In The Roar Of Spring, Transmutations.