Man has survived hitherto because he was too ignorant to know how to realise his wishes- Now that he can realise them, he must either change them or perish

A poem is this:/A nuance of sound/delicately operating/upon a cataract of sense/...the particulars/of a song waking/upon a bed of sound.

No wreaths please - especially no hothouse flowers. Some common memento is better, something he prized and is known by: his old clothes - a few books perhaps.

You have the chicken, the hen, and the rooster. The chicken goes with the hen So who is having sex with the rooster?

Death will be too late to bring us aid.

Your thighs are appletrees whose blossoms touch the sky. Your knees are a southern breeze.

It is not what you say that matters but the manner in which you say it; there lies the secret of the ages.