In This World, There Is A Kind

I Have Kind Of An Almost Religious Feeling About Poets. I Usually Refuse To Meet Them Because I Admire Them So Much. Except For Poe.

That It Should Be The Questions And Shape Of A Life, Its Total Complexity Gathered, Arranged, And Considered, Which Matters In The End, Not Some Stamp Of Salvation Or Damnation That Disperses All The Complexity Into Some Unsatisfying Little Decision - The Balancing Of Scales.

We Can't Just Stop. We're Not Rocks-progress, Migration, Motion Is... Modernity. It's Animate, It's What Living Things Do. We Desire. Even If All We Desire Is Stillness, It's Still Desire For.

Respect The Delicate Ecology Of Your Delusions.

I Just Wondered What A Thing It Would Be...if Overnight Everything You Owe Anything To, Justice, Or Love, Had Really Gone Away. Free. It Would Be...heartless Terror. Yes. Terrible, And... Very Great. To Shed Your Skin, Every Old Skin, One By One And Then Walk Away, Unemcumbered, Into The Morning.