I’ve been here before. All this looks familiar. I think I used to climb that tree by the river before it rot with desire. I don’t know if those branches could hold me now. I was young then. Young and troubled. I carried a bag of burdens across my shoulder all the time and … More The River (The Beginning of Psuedobiograhpical Sketches_
Not in the strife of action, is the leader made, nor in the face of crisis, but when all is over, when the mind is swift with keen regret, in the long after-thought. The after-thought of one action is the fore-thought of the next. The poet’s insight is his after-thought.
if i spread out the galaxy breathing hue in every leaf throwing color into mystery turning orbits into me then i can sense the wayward turn of a heart that tries to earn my affection when it’s free