We are, like Nebuchadnezzar, dethroned, bereft of reason, and eating grass like an ox.
Words ought to be a little wild for they are the assault of thoughts on the unthinking.
The Quiddity My God, a verse is not a crown, No point of honour, or gay suit, No hawk, or…
The House of Christmas There fared a mother driven forth Out of an inn to roam; In the place where…