The one man in the room who was as big as his poems, huge, with hulk and dynamic chunks of words.

If there's anything I look down on, it's a man in a blue outfit.

All I want is blackness. Blackness and silence.

I felt wise and cynical as all hell.

…beating time along the edge of thought.

O heart, such disorganization!

I wanted to crawl in between those black lines of print, the way you crawl through a fence, and go to sleep under that beautiful big green fig-tree.