Spring is like a perhaps hand

To destroy is always the first step in any creation.

There is no music unless the drum and the drummer are one.

the poems to come are for you and for me and are not for mostpeople... you and i are human beings; mostpeople are snobs.

my mind is a big hunk of irrevocable nothing which touch and taste and smell and hearing and sight keep hitting and chipping with sharp fatal tools in an agony of sensual chisels i perform squirms of chrome and ex -ecute strides of cobalt nevertheless i feel that i cleverly am being altered that i slightly am becoming something a little different, in fact myself hereupon helpless i utter lilac shrieks and scarlet bellowings

yes is a world & in this world of yes live (skilfully curled) all worlds

And this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart I carry your heart [ i carry it in my heart ]