I Don't Live For Poetry. I Live

O.k. I'm Running Out Of Appetite. Let This Swirl- A Bit Like Crab Nebula- Do For Now.

Were All Moving, Moving, Moving. Isnt It Nice?

You Don't Help People In Your Poems. I've Been Trying To Help People All My Life - That's My Trouble

One Loves Only Form, And Form Only Comes Into Existence When The Thing Is Born.

Is It Not The Play Of The Mind We Are After? Is It Not That That Shows A Mind Is There At All?