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Success is a great deodorant. -Elizabeth Taylor |
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Now I'm dead in the grave with my lips moving
And every schoolboy repeating my words by...
To deliver life out of captivity, The gnarled knees of the days
Must be bound to a...
Perhaps my whisper was already born before my lips.
Source: Selected Forms (1973,...
When my string's tuned tight as Igor's Song,
when I get my breath back, you can hear
in my voice the...
No, I am no one's contemporary - ever.
That would have been above my station . . .
How I loathe that other with...