I've Never Written The Things I'd Like

What The Man-moth Fears Most He Must Do.

It Is What We Imagine Knowledge To Be: Dark, Salt, Clear, Moving, Utterly Free, Drawn From The Cold Hard Mouth Of The World, Derived From The Rocky Breasts Forever, Flowing And Drawn, And Since Our Knowledge Is Historical, Flowing, And Flown.

If After I Read A Poem The World Looks Like That Poem For 24 Hours Or So I'm Sure It's A Good One—and The Same Goes For Paintings.

Heaven Is Not Like Flying Or Swimming, But Has Something To Do With Blackness And A Strong Glare.

Being A Poet Is One Of The Unhealthier Jobs--no Regular Hours, So Many Temptations!