Live In The Layers, Not On The

The Heart Breaks And Breaks And Lives By Breaking It Is Necessary To Go Through Dark And Deeper Dark And Not To Turn

When They Shall Paint Our Sockets Gray And Light Us Like A Stinking Fuse, Remember That We Once Could Say, Yesterday We Had A World To Lose.

In A Murderous Time/the Heart Breaks And Breaks/and Lives By Breaking.

Poetry Is Ultimately Mythology, The Telling Of Stories Of The Soul. The Old Myths, The Old Gods, The Old Heroes Have Never Died. They Are Only Sleeping At The Bottom Of Our Minds, Waiting For Our Call. We Have Need Of Them, For In Their Sum They Epitomize The Wisdom And Experience Of The Race.

A Poet Needs To Keep His Wilderness Alive Inside Him.