An Artist Has Got To Be Constantly

Each One Of Them Suffering From The Failures Of Their Day, With Strings Of Guilt They Tried Hard To Guide Us.

I Don't Know If I Call Myself A Poet Or Not. I Would Like To, But I'm Not Really Qualified To Make That Decision, Because I Come In On Such A Back Door, That I Don't Know What A Robert Frost Or A [john] Keats Or A T.s. Eliot Would Really Think Of My Stuff.

I Can Be Jubilant One Moment And Pensive The Next, And A Cloud Could Go By And Make That Happen.

Peace Is The Time It Takes To Reload Your Rifle.

Upon Four-legged Forest Clouds The Cowboy Angel Rides