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"When asked his own definition of poetry, N. H. Pritchard uttered guttural, bestial, primitive grunts and groans."

"O daft fados!" --Satire: Veritas

Telorance.

"La Vita Nuova

Last summer, in the blue heat,
Over the beach, in the burning air,
A legless beggar lurched on calloused fists
To where I waited with the sun-dazed birds.
He said, 'The summer boils away. My life
Joins to another life; this parched skin
Dries and dies and flakes away,
Becomes your costume when the torn leaves blow.'

--Thus in the losing autumn,
Over the streets, I now lurch
Legless to your side and speak your name
Under a gray sky ripped apart
By thunder and the changing wind."

--Weldon Kees

Panorama. MoonHightRise. Aurora.