Over coffee and orange juice the embryonic suicide brightens visibly.

I'm about fifty years behind as far as my preferences go and I must say that the poets who excite me most are the Americans. There are very few contemporary English poets that I admire.

I have taken a pill to kill The thin Papery feeling.

They had to call and call And pick the worms off me like sticky pearls.

To the person in the bell jar, blank and stopped as a dead baby, the world itself is a bad dream.

See, the darkness is leaking from the cracks. I cannot contain it. I cannot contain my life.

Dancing is the normal prelude to intercourse.