The world is mud-luscious and puddle-wonderful.

Humanity i love you because you are perpetually putting the secret of life in your pants and forgetting it's there and sitting down on it and because you are forever making poems in the lap of death Humanity i hate you

The snow doesn't give a soft white damn whom it touches.

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

Really unreal world, will you perhaps do the breathing for me while I am away?

Your poems are rather hard to understand, whereas your paintings are so easy. Easy? Of course - you paint flowers and girls and sunsets; things that everybody understands. I never met him. Who? Everybody. Did you ever hear of nonrepresentational painting? I am. Pardon me? I am a painter, and painting is nonrepresentational. Not all painting. No: housepainting is representational. And what does a housepainter represent? Ten dollars an hour. In other words, you don't want to be serious - It takes two to be serious.

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