Love, death, sleeping br with somebody else's husband br or wife-this br is what poetry is br about-Eskimo, Aztec, br or even Italian br Rinascimento, br or even the high falutin Greeks br or noble Roman-O's. br br O the constant turmoil br of the human species- br beds, graves, Spring with its br familiar rosebuds, the wrong beds, br the wrong graves, wars br unremembered & boundaries gained br only to be lost & lost br again br & lost roses whose lost br petals br reminded poets to carpe, carpe br diem with whoever's wife br or husband happened to br be handiest! br br O Turmoil & Confusion- br you are my Muses! br O longing for a world br without death, without beds br divided by walls between houses! br All the beds float out to sea! br All the dying lovers wave br to the other dying lovers! br One of them writes on his mistress's skin as he floats. br br He is the poet. br Not for this br will his life be spared.