I Can Offer You Only: This World

We Must Travel In The Direction Of Our Fear.

Life, Friends, Is Boring. We Must Not Say So. After All, The Sky Flashes, The Great Sea Yearns, We Ourselves Flash And Yearn

That Is Our ‘pointed Task. Love & Die.

We Are Using Our Own Skins For Wallpaper And We Cannot Win.

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.