He looked like an angelic little boy who had been kicked out of his orphanage for failing to take part in group masturbation. - Charles Wright

Each word, as someone once wrote, contains the universe.
The visible carries all the invisible on its back.
Tonight, in the unconditional, what moves in the long-limbed grasses,
what touches me
As though I didn’t exist?
What is it that keeps on moving,
a tiny pillar of smoke
Erect on its hind legs,
loose in the hollow grasses?
A word I don’t know yet, a little word, containing infinity,
Noiseless and unrepentant, in sift through the dry grass.

I write your name for the last time in this mist,
White breath on the windowpane,
And watch it vanish. No, it stays there.

If you don’t shine you are darkness.

from “Tomorrow