To the poet as a basement quilt, but perhaps To some reader a latticework of regrets.

A perfect example of the new republic's urge to drape itself with the togas of classical respectability.

I don't find any direct statements in life. My poetry imitates or reproduces the way knowledge or awareness come to me, which is by fits and starts and by indirection. I don't think poetry arranged in neat patterns would reflect that situation. My poetry is disjunct, but then so is life.

Just when I thought there wasn't room enough for another thought in my head, I had this great idea—

Most reckless things are beautiful in some way, and recklessness is what makes experimental art beautiful, just as religions are beautiful because of the strong possibilities that they are founded on nothing.

I lost my ridiculous accent without acquiring another

Imagine a painter crucified by his subject!