One way of ending the poem is to turn it back on itself, like a serpent with its tail in its mouth.

My writing time needs to surround itself with empty stretches, or at least unpeopled ones, for the writing takes place in an area of suspension as in a hanging nest that is almost entirely encapsulated.

Can it be I am the only Jew residing in Danville, Kentuchy, looking for matzoh in the Safeway and the A & P?

Here on the drawing board fingers and noses leak from the air brush maggots lie under if i should die before if i should die in the back room stacked up in smooth boxes like soapflakes or tunafish wait the undreamt of.

Meanwhile let us cast one shadow in air and water.

Nature is a catchment of sorrows.

When Sleeping Beauty wakes up, she is almost fifty years old