Return of Pleasure

I THOUGHT there was no pleasure in the world Because of my fears.

Then I remembered life and all the words in my language. And I had courage even to despise form. I thought, " I have skill to make words dance. To clap hands and to shake feet, But I will put myself, and everything I see, upon the page. Why should I reject words because of their genealogy? Or things, because of their association? Why should I scorn a bus rather than a ship? "