. . . Be Absolute Moderne.

One Evening I Sat Beauty On My Knees – And I Found Her Bitter – And I Reviled Her.

I Could Never Throw Love Out Of The Window.

And From Then On, I Bathed In The Poem Of The Sea, Star-infused, And Opalescent, Devouring Green Azures

The Poet, Therefore, Is Truly The Thief Of Fire. He Is Responsible For Humanity, For Animals Even; He Will Have To Make Sure His Visions Can Be Smelled, Fondled, Listened To; If What He Brings Back From Beyond Has Form, He Gives It Form; If It Has None, He Gives It None. A Language Must Be Found…of The Soul, For The Soul And Will Include Everything: Perfumes, Sounds Colors, Thought Grappling With Thought

The Sun, The Hearth Of Affection And Life, Pours Burning Love On The Delighted Earth.