I was a bore and didn't know when to smile or fake it. Or rather worse, I did but didn't.

In a more universal sense, we only get one thing. You know...a head stone if we're lucky; if not, green grass.

Trouble and pain were what kept a man alive. Or trying to avoid trouble and pain. It was a full time job.

Well, we lost it, and that’s all there is to that.

To me Art (poetry) is a continuous and continuing process and that when a man fails to write good poetry he fails to live fully or well.

There's no light at the end of the tunnel, there isn't even a tunnel. The best thing I can do is get drunk and listen to classical music. Or sleep and wait for death to get closer. Leaving this will not be a horrible thing. Yet I'm glad, somehow, that I threw my words in the air: confetti, celebrating nothing.

for a man of 55 who didn't get laid until he was 23 and not very often until he was 50 I think that I should stay listed via Pacific Telephone until I get as much as the average man has had