I Haven't Written Anything In Four Years.

How Sociable The Garden Was. We Ate And Talked In Given Light. The Children Put Their Toys To Grass All The Warm Wakeful August Night.

We Learned In The University To Consider Wordsworth And Keats As Romantics. They Were Only A Generation Apart, But Wordsworth Didn't Even Read Keats's Book When He Gave Him A Copy.

I Notice That Students, Particularly For Gay Students, It's Too Easy To Write About My Last Trick Or Something. It's Not Very Interesting To The Reader.

I Was Much Influenced By Jean-paul Sartre.

It Was Difficult Being A Teacher And Out Of The Closet In The '50s. By The Time I Retired, The English Department Was Proud Of Having A Gay Poet Of A Certain Minor Fame. It Was A Very Satisfactory Change!