I Take Space To Be The Central

And All Now Is War Where So Lately There Was Peace, And The Sweet Brotherhood, The Use Of Tilled Fields.

O.k. I'm Running Out Of Appetite. Let This Swirl- A Bit Like Crab Nebula- Do For Now.

We All Want What's Been Suddenly Disallowed.

A Poem Is Energy Transferred From Where The Poet Got It (he Will Have Some Several Causations), By Way Of The Poem Itself To, All The Way Over To, The Reader.

I'm Sorry, But I Was Born With A Towel On My Head.