He asked, "What makes a man a writer?" "Well," I said, "it's simple. You either get it down on paper, or jump off a bridge.
as the spirit wanes the form appears
what matters most is how well you walk through the fire
The poet, as a rule, is a half-man - a sissy, not a real person, and he is in no shape to lead real men in matters of blood, or courage.
I was beaten down long ago in some alley in another world.
I will remember the kisses, our lips raw with love, and how you gave me everything you had and how I offered you what was left of me.