Saturday, March 23, 2013


from
THE OLD POET SAYS

“If you must
count, count

in the ear,
not on your

fingers.”

*

“All the stars are
set in heaven

and for naught
do men make plans.

The grind stone grinds.
It grinds, and what

it grinds is us.”

*

“The plan has
not been grand -

sometimes we
dine divine;

sometimes we
eat each other.”



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