Make the visible a little hard to see.
Money is a kind of poetry.
I am one of you and being one of you is being and knowing what I am and know. Yet I am the necessary Angel of earth, since, in my sight, you see the earth again.
Our bloom is gone. We are the fruit thereof.
To live in the world but outside of existing conceptions of it.
You like it under the trees in autumn, because everything is half dead. The wind moves like a cripple among the leaves and repeats words without menaing.