Constantly risking absurdity and death whenever he performs above the heads of his audience, the poet, like an acrobat, climbs on rhyme to a high wire of his own making.

I am waiting for the war to be fought which will make the world safe for anarchy

The state of the world calls out for poetry to save it.

I once started out to walk around the world but ended up in Brooklyn, that Bridge was too much for me.

The future of publishing lies with the small and medium-sized presses, because the big publishers in New York are all part of huge conglomerates.

Almost every truly creative being alienated & expatriated in his own country

The art has to make it on its own, without explanations, and it’s the same for poetry. If the poem or the painting has to be explained, then it’s a failure in communication.