for whoso once has known this sweet knowledge, and then fled it; in absence, to him the avenging dream will come.

i felt at times i was watching my body from an immaterial vantage and i animated it in part.

in glut of all material arts: a civic barbarism may be-man disennobled -brutalized: by popular science. that's melville boo.

men are jailors all,  jailors of themselves.

shadow that comes inside.

sometimes i call copp boo too, reminds me how my indiana kin of yore used to call several uncles spook.

still, boo, in this debased age, life's thrill is primal, Pagan.