““Ars Poetica II" I find, after all these years, I am a believer— I believe what the thunder and lightning have to say; I believe that dreams are real, and that death has two reprisals; I believe that dead leaves and black water fill my heart. I shall die like a cloud, beautiful, white, full of nothingness. The night sky is an ideogram, a code card punched with holes. It thinks it’s the word of what’s-to-come. It thinks this, but it’s only The Library of Last Resort, The reflected light of The Great Misunderstanding. God is the fire my feet are held to.””
