a poet is someone who is abnormally fond of that precision which creates movement. Which is to say the highest form of concentration possible: fascination; to report on the electrifying experience of being

when man determined to destroy himself he picked the was of shall and finding only why smashed it into because.

since feelings come first, who cares about the syntax of things?

in the street of the sky night walks scattering poems

I will take the sun in my mouth and leap into the ripe air Alive with closed eyes to dash against darkness

Here's to opening and upward... and to yourself and up with you and up with and up with laughing.

Always it’s Spring)and everyone’s in love and flowers pick themselves.