Their idleness, aimless and languid airs.

I read the proponents of the Old School with much distaste but the world is about to break. Yes, a thousand times Yes.

I know the precocious haphazardry of the prevalent trends, the Pollocks of literature trying to find a form that accomodates the mess. Yes.

Ye self-affirming Art
Seeping through and into our hearts.
World without end.
Because you are incurably unreasonable
both in fortitude and flexibility
That you become a galaxy
A thousand times Yes.