A Poet Never Takes Notes. You Never

There Is No Love. There's Only Love Of Men And Women, Love Of Children, Love Of Friends, Of Men, Of God: Divine Love, Human Love, Parental Love, Roughly Discriminated For The Rough.

We Cannot Tell Some People What It Is Believe, Partly Because They Are Too Stupid To Understand, Partly Because We Are Too Proudly Vague To Explain.

Pressed Into Service Means Pressed Out Of Shape.

Every Poem Is A Momentary Stay Against The Confusion Of The World.

Than Smoke And Mist Who Better Could Appraise The Kindred Spirit Of An Inner Haze?