He Was His Own Leftover, The Spat-out

Nothing Has Changed Since I Began. My Eye Has Permitted No Change. I Am Going To Keep Things Like This.

But Who Is Stronger Than Death? Me , Evidently .

The Brassy Wood-pigeons Bubble Their Colourful Voices, And The Sun Rises Upon A World Well-tried And Old.

...imagine What You Are Writing About. See It And Live It. Do Not Think It Up Laboriously, As If You Were Working Out Mental Arithmetic. Just Look At It, Touch It, Smell It, Listen To It, Turn Yourself Into It. When You Do This, The Words Look After Themselves, Like Magic.

The Iron Man Came To The Top Of The Cliff. How Far Had He Walked? Nobody Knows. Where Did He Come From? Nobody Knows. How Was He Made? Nobody Knows. Taller Than A House The Iron Man Stood At The Top Of The Cliff, At The Very Brink, In The Darkness.