I have no fondness for pure form at all.
An old art spreading rumours about / Paradise, it begs outside the gates / Of the gods: the active gods come out.
Love without sex is still the most efficient form of hell known to man.
Writing poetry is the only form of literary labour which gives me entire satisfaction.
I am moving deeper into my own brain.
In other words the pictures are in a kind of relationship with each other which is touching only at points rather than pictures being illustrations of poems or poems extrapolations of the pictures.