Epigraph

We need help, the Poet reckoned.

--Edward Dorn Outside the street's on fire In a real death waltz Between what's flesh and what's fantasy And the poets down here Don't write nothing at all They just stand back and let it all be And in the quick of the night They reach for their moment And try to make an honest stand... -- Bruce Springsteen ...And it was clear she couldn't go on, The door was opened and the wind appeared, The candles blew and then disappeared, The curtains flew and then he appeared, Said, "Don't be afraid, Come on, Mary," And she had no fear And she ran to him And they started to fly... She had taken his hand... Come on, Mary, Don't fear the reaper... -- Blue Oyster Cult Well the deputy walks on hard nails And the preacher rides a mount But nothing really matters much, It's doom alone that counts And the one-eyed undertaker, he blows a futile horn "Come in," she said, "I'll give ya Shelter from the storm." -- Bob Dylan