I am not eccentric. It's just that I am more alive than most people. I am an unpopular electric eel set in a pond of catfish. - Edith Sitwell

White as a winding sheet, Masks blowing down the street:
Moscow, Paris London, Vienna — all are undone. The drums of death are mumbling, rumbling, and tumbling, Mumbling, rumbling, and tumbling, The world's floors are quaking, crumbling and breaking.

Still falls the Rain — Still falls the Blood from the Starved Man's wounded Side:
He bears in His Heart all wounds, — those of the light that died,
The last faint spark
In the self-murdered heart, the wounds of the sad uncomprehending dark...

lay your heart bare to my heart again,
In your small earthly dress