Fiction Becomes Visual By Becoming Verbal

I Usually Have Poor To Absent Relations With Editors Because They Have A Habit Of Desiring Changes And I Resist Changes.

How Do We Know, Then, When A Code's Been Cracked?when We Are Right?when Do We Know If We Have Even Received A Message? Why, Naturally, When, Upon One Set Of Substitutions, Sense Emerges Like The Outline Under A Rubbing; When A Single Tentative Construal Leads To Several; When All The Sullen Letters Of The Code Cry Team! After Yea! Has Been, By Several Hands, Uncovered.

In General, I Would Think That At Present Prose Writers Are Much In Advance Of The Poets. In The Old Days, I Read More Poetry Than Prose, But Now It Is In Prose Where You Find Things Being Put Together Well, Where There Is Great Ambition, And Equal Talent. Poets Have Gotten So Careless, It Is A Disgrace. You Can’t Pick Up A Page. All The Words Slide Off.

The Expression To Write Something Down Suggests A Descent Of Thought To The Fingers Whose Movements Immediately Falsify It.

We Have Scarcely Gotten Home ... When Our Children's Sneezes Greet Us, Skinned Knees Bleed After Waiting All Day To Do So. There Is The Bellyache And The Burned-out Basement Bulb, The Stalled Car And The Incontinent Cat. The Windows Frost, The Toilets Sweat, The Body Of Our Spouse Is One Cold Shoulder And The Darkness Of Our Bedroom Is Soon Full Of The Fallen Shadows Of Our Failures.