The Lord Survives The Rainbow Of His

I Will Catch Christ With A Greased Worm, And When The Prince Of Darkness Stalks My Bloodstream To Its Stygian Term . . . On Water The Man-fisher Walks.

What Can The Dove Of Jesus Give You Now But Wisdom, Exile? Stand And Live, The Dove Has Brought An Olive Branch To Eat.

Poetry Is Not The Record Of An Event: It Is An Event.

The Scythers, Time And Death, Helmed Locusts, Move Upon The Tree Of Breath

The World Is Absolutely Out Of Control Now And Is Not Going To Be Saved By Any Reason Or Unreason.