A poem is like a radio that can broadcast continuously for thousands of years.

That's what the shaman said. He didn't know what he was up against. He didn't expect the strength and weight and evil intensity of this spirit, this "entity," as he called it. The same way the priest in an exorcism has to take on the spirit.

Recent history is the record of one vast conspiracy to impose one level of mechanical consciousness on mankind.

The weight of the world is love. Under the burden of solitude, under the burden of dissatisfaction.

We love to be hurt and we love to have our unhealing wounds opened and reopened again: we sit staring in the mirror of art, fascinated by our own deformities.

When you notice something clearly and see it vividly, it then becomes sacred.

Visions! omens! hallucinations! miracles! ecstasies! gone down the American river! Dreams! adorations! illumnations! religions! the whole boatload of sensitive bullshit!