There Is An Ecstatic Mechanism In Birds

Constantly Risking Absurdity And Death Whenever He Performs Above The Heads Of His Audience, The Poet, Like An Acrobat, Climbs On Rhyme To A High Wire Of His Own Making.

Poets, Come Out Of Your Closets, Open Your Windows, Open Your Doors, You Have Been Holed Up Too Long In Your Closed Worlds... Poetry Should Transport The Public/to Higher Places/than Other Wheels Can Carry It.

I Feel There Is An Angel In Me' She'd Say 'whom I Am Constantly Shocking

Poetry Can Change The World, Just Like Any Art Can Change The World, By Changing Consciousness. Of Course This Was The Great Slogan Of The Nineteen Sixites Hippies’ Revolution—enlarge The Area Of Consciousness, Which Quite Often Was Done By Psychedelic Means.

The State Of The World Calls Out For Poetry To Save It.