There Are Too Many Souls Of Wood

May The Devil Himself Splatter You With Dung.

Poetry Is Indispensable - If I Only Knew What For.

It Is Not Inspiration; It Is Expiration.

Inspiration Arrived As A Result Of Profound Indolence... I Awoke With A Start And Witnessed As From A Seat In A Theatre, Three Acts Of A Potentially Awesome Play.

Expect Neither Reward Nor Beatitude. Return Noble Waves For Ignoble.