I Am Nobody But Myself.

The Act Of Writing Requires A Constant Plunging Back Into The Shadow Of The Past Where Time Hovers Ghostlike.

Had The Price Of Looking Been Blindness, I Would Have Looked.

In Those Days It Was Either Live With Music Or Die With Noise, And We Chose Rather Desperately To Live.

I Do Not Know If All Cops Are Poets, But I Know That All Cops Carry Guns With Triggers.

America Is Woven Of Many Strands. I Would Recognize Them And Let It So Remain.