The Thoughts Of A Prisoner - They're

In The Camp, This Meant Committing My Verse-many Thousands Of Lines-to Memory. To Help Me With This I Improvised Decimal Counting Beads And, In Transit Prisons, Broke Up Matchsticks And Used The Fragments As Tallies. As I Approached The End Of My Sentences I Grew More Confident Of My Powers Of Memory, And Began Writing Down And Memorizing Prose-dialogue At First, But Then, Bit By Bit, Whole Densely Written Passages. My Memory Found Room For Them! It Worked. But More And More Of My Time-in The End As Much As One Week Every Month-went Into The Regular Repetition Of All I Had Memorized.

This Is A Grave Danger: The Stoppage Of Information Between The Parts Of The Planet. Contemporary Science Knows That Such Stoppage Is The Way Of Entropy, Of Universal Destruction.

The Essence Of Life Will Never Be Captured By Even The Greatest Of Formulas.

If There Were No Executioners, There Would Be No Executions.

Bless You, Prison, For Having Been In My Life!