A Person Incapable Of Imaging Another World

As I Walked Out One Evening, Walking Down Bristol Street, The Crowds Upon The Pavement Were Fields Of Harvest Wheat. And Down By The Brimming River I Heard A Lover Sing Under An Arch Of The Railway: 'love Has No Ending. 'i'll Love You, Dear, I'll Love You Till China And Africa Meet, And The River Jumps Over The Mountain And The Salmon Sing In The Street, 'i'll Love You Till The Ocean Is Folded And Hung Up To Dry And The Seven Stars Go Squawking Like Geese About The Sky.

No Being Can Make Another One Happy.

Sob, Heavy World Sob As You Spin, Mantled In Mist Remote From The Happy.

Our Claim To Our Own Bodies And Our World Is Our Catastrophe.

The Theater Has Never Been Any Good Since The Actors Became Gentlemen.