beauty’ is related not to ‘loveliness’ but to a state in which reality plays a part.

The business of love is cruelty which,by our wills, we transform to live together.

Danse Russe If I when my wife is sleeping and the baby and Kathleen are sleeping and the sun is a flame-white disc in silken mists above shining trees,-- if I in my north room dance naked, grotesquely before my mirror waving my shirt round my head and singing softly to myself: "I am lonely, lonely. I was born to be lonely, I am best so!" If I admire my arms, my face, my shoulders, flanks, buttocks against the yellow drawn shades,-- Who shall say I am not the happy genius of my household?

For the beginning is assuredlythe end- since we know nothing, pureand simple, beyondour own complexities.

Vast and grey, the skyis a simulacrumto all but him whose daysare vast and grey, and―In the tall, dried grassesa goat stirswith nozzle searching the ground.―my head is in the airbut who am I . . ?And amazed my heart leaps at the thought of lovevast and greyyearning silently over me.

unsignificantlyoff the coastthere wasa splash quite unnoticedthis was Icarus drowning

Memory is a kindof accomplishment,a sort of renewal evenan initiation, since the spaces it opens are new placesinhabited by hordesheretofore unrealized,of new kinds―since their movementsare towards new objectives(even though formerly they were abandoned).

The pure products of Americago crazy......[] No one to witnessand adjust, no one to drive the car

The HurricaneThe tree lay downon the garage roof and stretched, You have your heaven, it said, go to it.