Vladimir Mayakovsky – To his Own Beloved Self
Franz Von Stuck, Hell, 1908 Four. Ponderous. The chimes of a clock. “Render unto Ceasar… render unto God…” But where’s someone like me to dock? Where to find waiting – a lair? Were I like the ocean of ocean little, on the tiptoes of waves I’d rise, I’d strain, a tide, to caress the moon. …