The Rape of Masquerades

​The aridity of the evening has come, My ponderous and moody weariness is back, It calls for retirement, It calls to die back in sleep.   All my acquaintances and correspondences wait to come in flash, Deciduous may be the people, and ephemeral the events, Yet they are all there, in the baby psyche.   … Continue reading The Rape of Masquerades