Forgive Me If I Sleep Until I

One Loves Only Form, And Form Only Comes Into Existence When The Thing Is Born.

The Poem, For Me, Is Simply The First Sound Realized In The Modality Of Being.

I'm Sorry, But I Was Born With A Towel On My Head.

O.k. I'm Running Out Of Appetite. Let This Swirl- A Bit Like Crab Nebula- Do For Now.

I Was Playing Catch With The European Audience.