It Bothers Me That I Won't Live

Death And I Are Head To Head In A Total Collision, Pure And Mutual Distaste.

I Look Upon Another's Insistence On The Merits Of His Or Her Life - Duties, Intellect, Accomplishment - And See That Most Of It Is Nonsense.

It Bothers Me That I Won't Live To See The End Of The Century, Because, When I Was Young, In St. Louis, I Remember Saying To Marilyn, My Sister By Adoption, That That Was How Long I Wanted To Live: Seventy Years.

I Am Startled When People Are Themselves And Are Not My Thoughts Of Them.

If You Like To Read, Sometimes It's Interesting Just To Go And See What The Reality Is, Of The Word, Of The Seedy Or Not So Seedy Fiction Writer, The Drunk Or Sober Poet... Sometimes You Can Go Looking For Illumination.