Appreciation of art is a moral erection, otherwise mere dilettantism.
Poetry, being elegance itself, cannot hope to achieve visibility... It insists on living its own life.
When a work appears to be ahead of its time, it is only the time that is behind the work.
I am happy to exhibit, but not to put myself on exhibition.
May the devil himself splatter you with dung.
Poetry is a religion with no hope.