O.k. I'm Running Out Of Appetite. Let

I Take Space To Be The Central Fact To Man Born In America. I Spell It Large Because It Comes Large Here. Large And Without Mercy.

I Was Playing Catch With The European Audience.

The Body Whips The Soul. In Its Great Desire It Demands The Elixir In The Roar Of Spring, Transmutations.

Knowledge Is The Harvest Of Attention

There Are No Hierarchies, No Infinite, No Such Many As Mass, There Are Only/ Eyes In All Heads,/ To Be Looked Out Of.