In New England the equipmental quality of equipment was discovered, the cleaning lady was deported, ants invade the attic and this is sad.

There is no Bronx River Expressway there are single beds and shutters and rafters and a flash of lightning in the sky.

There are thoughts like Old World, New World, Bank Vault and Whale.

Happiness is a battering ram of one if by land two if by tiptoe, three if by a haunted house intrepid in its scholars, o’wearied in its deep.