It's never to late to do nothing at all.

I am learning by the week, but my poesy is still not my own. New rhyme, new me me me in words. I am not all this carven rhetoric.

I didn't know the names of the flowers - now my garden is gone.

The real America that Whitman proclaimed and Thoreau decoded.

I want people to bow as they see me and say he is gifted with poetry, he has seen the presence of the creator.

So I had a choice between going to a jail or going to a bughouse like a nice young middle-class student. So I chose to go to a very polite mental hospital. When I left eight months later, they said, 'You were never psychotic. You were just an average neurotic.'

Mind is shapely, Art is shapely.