To Get On Screen With The Talking

The Whole Blear World Of Smoke And Twisted Steel Around My Head In A Railroad Car, And My Mind Wandering Past The Rust Into Futurity: I Saw The Sun Go Down In A Carnal And Primeval World, Leaving Darkness To Cover My Railroad Train Because The Other Side Of The World Was Waiting For Dawn.

Mind Is Shapely, Art Is Shapely.

It Means Abandoning Being A Poet, Abandoning Your Careerism, Abandoning Even The Idea Of Writing Any Poetry, Really Abandoning, Giving Up As Hopeless - Abandoning The Possibility Of Really Expressing Yourself To The Nations Of The World. Abandoning The Idea Of Being A Prophet With Honor And Dignity, And Abandoning The Glory Of Poetry And Just Settling Down In The Muck Of Your Own Mindyou Really Have To Make A Resolution To Write For Yourself, In The Sense Of Not Writing To Impress Yourself, But Just Writing What Your Self Is Saying.

I Want People To Bow As They See Me And Say He Is Gifted With Poetry, He Has Seen The Presence Of The Creator.

Last Exit To Brooklyn Should Explode Like A Rusty Hellish Bombshell Over America And Still Be Eagerly Read In A Hundred Years.