Unholy Battered Old Thing You Were, My

Night Is The Wonderful Opportunity To Take Rest, To Forgive, To Smile, To Get Ready For All The Battles That You Have To Fight Tomorrow.

I Really Would Like To Stop Working Forever–never Work Again, Never Do Anything Like The Kind Of Work I’m Doing Now–and Do Nothing But Write Poetry And Have Leisure To Spend The Day Outdoors And Go To Museums And See Friends. And I’d Like To Keep Living With Someone — Maybe Even A Man — And Explore Relationships That Way. And Cultivate My Perceptions, Cultivate The Visionary Thing In Me. Just A Literary And Quiet City-hermit Existence.

You Are What You Think About All Day.

It's Very Much Related To The American Tycoon. To William Randolph Hearst, Vanderbilt, Rockefeller, That Whole Stratum Of American Acquisitive Evil. Monopolistic, Acquisitive Evil. Ugly Evil. The Ugly American. The Ugly American At His Ugly Worst. That's Exactly What It Is.

Poetry Is Not An Expression Of The Party Line. It's That Time Of Night, Lying In Bed, Thinking What You Really Think, Making The Private World Public, That's What The Poet Does.