I'm sorry, but I was born with a towel on my head.

A poem is energy transferred from where the poet got it (he will have some several causations), by way of the poem itself to, all the way over to, the reader.

There is a grace of life which is still yours, my dear Europe.

There are no hierarchies, no infinite, no such many as mass, there are only/ eyes in all heads,/ to be looked out of.

The heroes of the present will retreat to the imitation they are anyhow.

When will government cease being a nuisance to everybody?

I take space to be the central fact to man born in America. I spell it large because it comes large here. Large and without mercy.