The Public Is Never Pleased With What

Poetry, Being Elegance Itself, Cannot Hope To Achieve Visibility... It Insists On Living Its Own Life.

Every Poem Is A Coat Of Arms. It Must Be Deciphered. How Much Blood, How Many Tears In Exchange For These Axes, These Muzzles, These Unicorns, These Torches, These Towers, These Martlets, These Seedlings Of Stars And These Fields Of Blue!

The Spirit Of Creation Is The Spirit Of Contradiction. It Is The Breakthrough Of Appearances Toward An Unknown Reality.

I Am Burning Myself Up And Will Always Do So.

I Know That Poetry Is Indispensable, But To What I Could Not Say.