With A Sudden Sharp Hot Stink Of

And As If Reporting Some Felony To The Police They Let You Know You Were Not John Donne.

This House Has Been Far Out At Sea All Night, The Woods Crashing Through Darkness, The Booming Hills, Winds Stampeding The Fields Under The Window Floundering Black Astride And Blinding Wet Till Day Rose; Then Under An Orange Sky The Hills Had New Places, And Wind Wielded Blade-light, Luminous Black And Emerald, Flexing Like The Lens Of A Mad Eye.

The Bush Administration Doesn't Particularly Like Public Participation. It Makes Them Look Bad.

But Who Is Stronger Than Death? Me , Evidently .

It Took The Whole Of Creation To Produce My Foot, My Each Feather: Now I Hold Creation In My Foot.