True Poetry Is A Function Of Awakening.

The Demands Of Our Reality Function Require That We Adapt To Reality, That We Constitute Ourselves As A Reality And That We Manufacture Works Which Are Realities. But Doesn't Reverie, By Its Very Essence, Liberate Us From The Reality Function? From The Moment It Is Considered In All Its Simplicity, It Is Perfectly Evident That Reverie Bears Witness To A Normal Useful Irreality Function Which Keeps The Human Psyche On The Fringe Of All The Brutality Of A Hostile And Foreign Non-self.

The Reverie We Intend To Study Is Poetic Reverie. This Is A Reverie Which Poetry Puts On The Right Track, The Track An Expanding Consciousness Follows. This Reverie Is Written, Or, At Least, Promises To Be Written. It Is Already Facing The Great Universe Of The Blank Page. Then Images Begin To Compose And Fall Into Place.

An Excess Of Childhood Is The Germ Of A Poem.

The Characteristic Of Scientific Progress Is Our Knowing That We Did Not Know.

Sometimes The House Of The Future Is Better Built, Lighter And Larger Than All The Houses Of The Past, So That The Image Of The Dream House Is Opposed To That Of The Childhood Home. Late In Life, With Indomitable Courage, We Continue To Say That We Are Going To Do What We Have Not Yet Done: We Are Going To Build A House. This Dream House May Be Merely A Dream Of Ownership, The Embodiment Of Everything That Is Considered Convenient, Comfortable, Healthy, Sound, Desirable, By Other People. It Must Therefore Satisfy Both Pride And Reason, Two Irreconcilable Terms.