The stars fell one by one into his eyes and burnt.

I have been to lots of parties and acted perfectly disgraceful but I never actually collapsed oh Lana Turner we love you get up

And always embrace things, people earth sky stars, as I do, freely and with the appropriate sense of space.

I'm becoming the street. Who are you in love with? me? Straight against the light I cross.

I loved her fright, which was against me into the air! and the diamond white of her forelock which seemed to smart with thoughts as my heart smarted with life! and she'd toss her head with the pain and paw the air and champ the bit, as if I were Endymion and she, moon-like, hated to love me.

And don't worry about your lineage poetic or natural.

The poem is at last between two persons instead of two pages. In all modesty, I confess that it may be the death of literature as we know it.