Are You Becoming What You've Always Hated?

I Am Aware That A Computer Can’t Create A Poem, But Neither Can A Typewriter.

The Night Kept Coming On In And There Was Nothing I Could Do.

Most Of The World Was Mad. And The Part That Wasn't Mad Was Angry. And The Part That Wasn't Mad Or Angry Was Just Stupid. I Had No Chance. I Had No Choice. Just Hang On And Wait For The End. It Was Hard Work. It Was The Hardest Work Imaginable.

Death Is Not The Problem; Waiting Around For It Is.

The Poet, As A Rule, Is A Half-man - A Sissy, Not A Real Person, And He Is In No Shape To Lead Real Men In Matters Of Blood, Or Courage.