Their Monument Sticks Like A Fishbone In

I Was Overcome With An Attack Of Pathological Enthusiasm.

I Want To Apologize For Plaguing You With So Many Telephone Calls Last November And December. When The 'enthusiasm' Is Coming On Me It Is Accompanied By A Feverish Reaching Out To My Friends. After Its Over I Wince And Wither.

We Feel The Machine Slipping From Our Hands As If Someone Else Were Steering; If We See Light At The End Of The Tunnel, It's The Light Of The Oncoming Train.

But Sometimes Everything I Write With The Threadbare Art Of My Eye Seems A Snapshot

Wallowing In This Bloody Sty, I Cast For Fish That Pleased My Eye