Presumably, If You See Spirit At The

I Have A New Method Of Poetry. All You Got To Do Is Look Over Your Notebooks... Or Lay Down On A Couch, And Think Of Anything That Comes Into Your Head, Especially The Miseries. Then Arrange In Lines Of Two, Three Or Four Words Each, Don't Bother About Sentences, In Sections Of Two, Three Or Four Lines Each.

When It Snows In Your Nose, You Catch Cold In Your Brain.

I Heard You Asking Questions Of Each: Who Killed The Pork Chops? What Price Bananas? Are You My Angel?

Who Dreamt And Made Incarnate Gaps In Time & Space Through Images Juxtaposed, And Trapped The Archangel Of The Soul Between 2 Visual Images And Joined The Elemental Verbs And Set The Noun And Dash Of Consciousness Together Jumping With Sensation Of Pater Omnipotens Aeterna Deus To Recreate The Syntax And Measure Of Poor Human Prose And Stand Before You Speechless And Intelligent And Shaking With Shame

I Believe That We Are Put Here In Human Form To Decipher The Hieroglyphs Of Love And Suffering. And, There Is No Degree Of Love Or Intensity Of Feeling That Does Not Bring With It The Possibility Of A Crippling Hurt. But, It Is A Duty To Take That Risk And Love Without Reserve Or Defense.