Justice Itself Tends To Be Corrupted By

Honest Criticism And Sensitive Appreciation Are Directed Not Upon The Poet But Upon The Poetry.

I Journeyed To London, To The Timekept City, Where The River Flows, With Foreign Flotations. There I Was Told: We Have Too Many Churches, And Too Few Chop-houses.

The Past And Future / Are Conquered, And Reconciled.

Of Lovers Whose Bodies Smell Of Each Other Who Think The Same Thoughts Without Need Of Speech

When The Whole World Is Running Headlong Towards The Precipice, One Who Walks In The Opposite Direction Is Looked At As Being Crazy.