You Must Be In Tune

It's Kind Of A Test, Mary, And It's The Only Kind That Amounts To Anything. When Something Rotten Like This Happens, Then You Have Your Choice. You Start To Really Be Alive, Or You Start To Die. That's All.

Of Those That Are Drawn Away, Each Is Drawn Elsewhere Toward Another: Once More A Man And A Woman, In A Loneliness They Are Not Liable At That Time To Notice, Are Tightened Together Upon A Bed: And Another Family Has Begun.

As A Whole Part Of "psychological Education" It Needs To Be Remembered That A Neurosis Can Be Valuable; Also That "adjustment" To A Sick And Insane Environment Is Of Itself Not "health" But Sickness And Insanity.

It Is The Middle And Pure Height And Whole Of Summer And A Summer Night, The Held Breath, Of A Planet's Year; High Shored Sleeps The Crested Tide: What Day Of The Month I Do Not Know, Which Day Of The Week I Am Not Sure, Far Less What Hour Of The Night.

I Suspect The Fault...is In Me: That I Hate Any Job On Earth, As A Job And A Hindrance And A Semi-suicide.