When You Play Chess Alone It's Always

A Poem Is An Instant Of Lucidity In Which The Entire Organism Participates.

There’s No Preparation For Poetry.

The Plain Truth Is We Are Going To Die. Here I Am, A Teeny Spec Surrounded By Boundless Space And Time, Arguing With The Whole Of Creation, Shaking My Fist, Sputtering, Growing Even Eloquent At Times, And Then-poof! I Am Gone. Swept Off Once And For All. I Think That Is Very, Very Funny.

There Are People Who Live Inside Their Heads And Their Intellects. It's Something One Is Born With And Stuck With. It's Not Something You Make A Decision About.

Found Objects, Chance Creations, Ready-mades (mass-produced Items Promoted Into Art Objects, Such As Duchamp's "fountain"-urinal As Sculpture) Abolish The Separation Between Art And Life. The Commonplace Is Miraculous If Rightly Seen.