He Threw Up His Hands And Wrote

The Weight Of The World Is Love. Under The Burden Of Solitude, Under The Burden Of Dissatisfaction.

Who Can Live With This Consciousness And Not Wake Frightened At Sunrise?

Poetry's Role Is To Provide Spontaneous Individual Candor As Distinct From Manipulation And Brainwash.

I Saw The Best Minds Of My Generation Who Threw Their Watches Off The Roof To Cast Their Ballot For Eternity Outside Of Time, & Alarm Clocks Fell On Their Heads Every Day For The Next Decade.

I Really Would Like To Stop Working Forever–never Work Again, Never Do Anything Like The Kind Of Work I’m Doing Now–and Do Nothing But Write Poetry And Have Leisure To Spend The Day Outdoors And Go To Museums And See Friends. And I’d Like To Keep Living With Someone — Maybe Even A Man — And Explore Relationships That Way. And Cultivate My Perceptions, Cultivate The Visionary Thing In Me. Just A Literary And Quiet City-hermit Existence.