Never but the one matter. The dead and gone. The dying and going. From the word go.

I asked her to look at me and after a few moments - (pause) - after a few moments she did, but the eyes just slits, because of the glare I bent over her to get them in the shadow and they opened. (Pause. Low) Let me in.

The old endless chain of love, tolerance, indifference, aversion and disgust

Poetry is essentially the antithesis of Metaphysics: Metaphysics purge the mind of the senses and cultivate the disembodiment of the spiritual; Poetry is all passionate and feeling and animates the inanimate; Metaphysics are most perfect when concerned with universals; Poetry, when most concerned with particulars.

Was I asleep? Had I slept?

That passed the time. It would have passed in any case. Yes, but not so rapidly.

There is man in his entirety, blaming his shoe when his foot is guilty.