I Want A Fever, In Poetry: A

What A View, I Said Again. The River Was Blank And Mindless With Beauty. It Was The Most Glorious Thing I Have Ever Seen. But It Was Not Seeing, Really. For Once It Was Not Just Seeing. It Was Beholding. I Beheld The River In Its Icy Pit Of Brightness, In Its Far-below Sound And Indifference, In Its Large Coil And Tiny Points And Flashes Of The Moon, In Its Long Sinuous Form, In Its Uncomprehending Consequence.

I Want You To Hear A New Version Of Dueling Banjos. Anyone Else Is Welcome.

Yet Technique Matters, Even So. God Uses It, For A Buffalo Is Not A Leopard.

Flight Is The Only Truly New Sensation Than Men Have Achieved In Modern History.

What You Have To Realize When You Write Poetry, Or If You Love Poetry, Is That Poetry Is Just Naturally The Greatest God Damn Thing That Ever Was In The Whole Universe