What whispers as I stalk the midnight hills? Thickly fell the darkness roundabout; Like pitch it filled the cataracts and rills, And took my vision, so that I may doubt My step, but then as from the earth my shout…
Read MoreI asked a Druid: Speak to trees– Can this you really do? She queerly led me to a tree… I found it true indeed! And then a person asked of me: ‘What do they say to you?’ The rustling…
Read MoreTo be in any form, what is that?–he says, O Dionysos, what is that? The man, he writes In long, sensuous lines a song about himself, As if to praise a god who slips between his thumbs, Makes a circuit…
Read MoreGentle wind, rough wind, our wind, no wind– Many are the winds that help us. One by one we sing a hymn to you, singing: Help us appreciate our home. Gentle wind, you massage the tree leaves, Lead the rope…
Read MoreA struggling beetle Emerging from the toilet Slides into the piss A beetle scurries On the floor; an eye flashes A shoe thunders down A hounded beetle Dashes madly for the wall Almost, almost, al A horn…
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