I Found I Could Extinguish All Human

What A Life! True Life Is Elsewhere. We Are Not In The World.

The Poet, Therefore, Is Truly The Thief Of Fire. He Is Responsible For Humanity, For Animals Even; He Will Have To Make Sure His Visions Can Be Smelled, Fondled, Listened To; If What He Brings Back From Beyond Has Form, He Gives It Form; If It Has None, He Gives It None. A Language Must Be Found…of The Soul, For The Soul And Will Include Everything: Perfumes, Sounds Colors, Thought Grappling With Thought

One Evening I Sat Beauty On My Knees – And I Found Her Bitter – And I Reviled Her.

I Turned Silences And Nights Into Words. What Was Unutterable, I Wrote Down. I Made The Whirling World Stand Still.

Stronger Than Alcohol, Vaster Than Poetry, Ferment The Freckled Red Bitterness Of Love!