Where do the words gowhen we have said them?

It is ferocious, life, but it must eat . . .

...what the Man-Moth fears most he must do..

Poetry heals the wounds inflicted by reason.

Poetry is the language of a state of crisis.

Now is History as fast as the mind remembers.

The very essence of I is being killed by You.

Poetry is what happens when nothing else can.

You campaign in poetry. You govern in prose.

How weightlesswords are when nothing will do.

The only emperor is the emperor of ice cream.

Poetry is nearer to vital truth than history.

Only times and places, only names and ghosts.

Mega biblion, mega kakon (Big book, big evil)

I put a chameleon on a red dildo... He blushed