I Can Offer You Only: This World

Life, Friends, Is Boring. We Must Not Say So.

This World Is Gradually Becoming A Place Where I Do Not Care To Be Any More.

I Think That What Happens In My Poetic Work In The Future Will Depend On My Being Knocked In The Face, And Thrown Flat, And Given Cancer, And All Kinds Of Other Things Short Of Senile Dementia.

Offering Dragons Quarter Is No Good, They Regrow All Their Parts And Come On Again. They Have To Be Killed.

That Is Our ‘pointed Task. Love & Die.