The library is a public moment,
In it ruins are tombs and stars of gold;
The gold flashes, a star relaxes the mind
Of ease and compassion, that bends
...
Beating beards are beaming with guilt,
The furnace of the heart is a guilty wart,
One finds in it a spot of distaste as it
Dissolves and reenters the head and heart.
...
Succeed and write of monsters,
Wanting them close to your body
That wishes to dispel their rage.
...
In my tomb I relax and enjoy
The delights of an evening too long.
It is my veritable and venerable grave,
The land of engraved words,
...
Now return to a life of the straight zone,
Return to the powerful region when people
Acted like their ghosts, watching, waiting,
Speaking and feeling with emotion.
...
I see the melting crowds in sympathy,
I mean my words resounding in space;
Have I any wonder remaining in my muscles?
Will my breathing ones be my children?
...
The declaration has a word of rejection,
But I conceive of the differences and award
A man who chooses, signs and forfeits.
I include a focus, a passion, and bravado,
...
The buzz of bees outlives the books,
Our art is your loving mighty message
In print and united speech of poets.
The buzzes of the axe grinding the air
...
Poems enter the area of squares,
The squares are computers of the circus,
But buttons melt in odd shapes,
As the family of the now returning
...
Life has attained the sport of messages,
Their stay is permanent due to old age;
The range of the way and how we arrange,
That is the target of tragedy and comedy.
...