Put your mouthful of words away and come with me to watch the lilies open in such a field, growing there like yachts, slowly steering their petals without nurses or clocks.
Even so, I must admire your skill. You are so gracefully insane.
The sea is mother-death and she is a mighty female, the one who wins, the one who sucks us all up.
Images are the heart of poetry ... You're not a poet without imagery.
Let the light be called Day so that men may grow corn or take busses.
Even without wars, life is dangerous.