I Have A Cat, The Pet That

I Think I'm Like Most Novelists In That My Books Have Gotten Farther And Farther Away From Autobiography The Longer I've Been Writing Them.

There Is Little Premium In Poetry In A World That Thinks Of Pound And Whitman As A Weight And A Sampler, Not An Ezra, A Walt, A Thing Of Beauty, A Joy Forever.

It Would Take A Helluva Man To Replace No Man At All.

People Who Wish To Salute The Free And Independent Side Of Their Evolutionary Character Acquire Cats. People Who Wish To Pay Homage To Their Servile And Salivating Roots Own Dogs.

New York City Has Finally Hired Women To Pick Up The Garbage, Which Makes Sense To Me, Since, As I've Discovered, A Good Bit Of Being A Woman Consists Of Picking Up Garbage.