As We Wash Our Body So We

Your Poems Are Of Interest To Mankind; Your Liver Isn't. Drink Till You Write Well And Feel Sick. Bless Your Poems And Be Damned To You.

To Live Strikes Me As A Metaphysical Mistake Of Matter, A Dereliction Of Inaction.

I'm A Man For Whom The Outside World Is An Inner Reality.

Everything Around Me Is Evaporating. My Whole Life, My Memories, My Imagination And Its Contents, My Personality - It's All Evaporating. I Continuously Feel That I Was Someone Else, That I Felt Something Else, That I Thought Something Else. What I'm Attending Here Is A Show With Another Set. And The Show I'm Attending Is Myself.

For I Am The Size Of What I See / Not My Height's Size.