My stone windows,
Ribbed between
Me and the storm outside,
will blow away.
...
I think I fell of the sky on a day strife was at large in heaven and in hell, and also between them, I think I might have been what they sent to earth in immortal rage.)
Another Poem
Can the wide world take another poem?
I think
The world will
Burst, like a man
enslaved in thirst,
If I have my say.
Sick.