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.

Tell your secrets. [In reply to the question "How does one become a prophet?"]

When it snows in your nose, you catch cold in your brain.

It's time we did something to assert ourselves. After all, we do comprise 10% of the population.

I want to be a saint, a real saint while I am young, for there is so much work to do.

Poetry is not an expression of the party line. It's that time of night, lying in bed, thinking what you really think, making the private world public, that's what the poet does.

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