When The Cow Gives Blood And The

It Is June. I Am Tired Of Being Brave.

Put Your Mouthful Of Words Away And Come With Me To Watch The Lilies Open In Such A Field, Growing There Like Yachts, Slowly Steering Their Petals Without Nurses Or Clocks.

Depression Is Boring, I Think And I Would Do Better To Make Some Soup And Light Up The Cave.

Though Rain Curses The Window Let The Poem Be Made.

Please God, We're All Right Here. Please Leave Us Alone. Don't Send Death In His Fat Red Suit And His Ho-ho Baritone.