in the gray depths of an evil
empire bound
by my taste for fine choc'late

my fingers splinter
in the wind from this luck

exorbitant promise
a cage called the hours


"Still the manuscript did not come back, and there was no reply to his inquiry as to its whereabouts. Silence hid the embarassment of acknowledging that diligent search failed to find 'Captain Craig' in the office. At length the manuscript arrived, with a lame and vague apology. Robinson was more angry than hurt. ...The truth, which leaked out to him long after, was bizarre beyond his imagining. 'Captain Craig' had lain for weeks in a Boston brothel, guarded by the proprietess until the return of her anonymous customer. a member of the publishing staff." --Emery Neff, Edwin Arlington Robinson (1948)


Into Middle America....


Cholera.