II. But He Never Learned How To Read A Book

But he never learned how to read a bookOr even the right words to steadily consume
Never expect anyone to be your saviorFor intelligence, you gotta make the room

An Innocent Looking Soul

An innocent looking soulDraped with an ethereal gownConfident strides across the patioWith Eve’s revengeCrisp air – like the first bite of a green appleObscured; knowing her nectar to be my cure I watch her bosom swellIt’s not objectivizationFor I worship herRefreshed in wavesThis transparent Victorian hypocrisyKnowing all that ails& an unseen wound Yet morning crestsPale

Ray Bradbury

  “I have never listened to anyone who criticized my taste in space travel, sideshows or gorillas. When this occurs, I pack up my dinosaurs and leave the room.” ― Ray Bradbury, Zen in the Art of Writing