Shall I compare thee to a casket? Bearing bourgeoisie and all? Whose destination is six feet below? Where wear and tear rules with time. Gold, silver or wood, season to prove. Though beauty is your name Another side we now gaze Very ugly I must say. Again vanity upon vanity… Your speed we cherish still. … Continue reading Flying Boxes
This revolution must be publicized, because clean is the innocence on those babies’ eyes, and the infant things fight to rise like the morning sun, to find where life settles cool. This revolution must be publicized; steel consciences forge dead hearts, to stumble their coming rise! This revolution must be publicized; dusk wait plenty, and … Continue reading This Revolution Must Be Publicized.