I Know Too Much And Not Enough

What Thoughts I Have Of You Tonight, Walt Whit- Man, For I Walked Down The Sidestreets Under The Trees With A Headache Self-conscious Looking At The Full Moon. In My Hungry Fatigue, And Shopping For Images, I Went Into The Neon Fruit Supermarket, Dreaming Of Your Enumerations!

I Want People To Bow As They See Me And Say He Is Gifted With Poetry, He Has Seen The Presence Of The Creator.

I Have A New Method Of Poetry. All You Got To Do Is Look Over Your Notebooks... Or Lay Down On A Couch, And Think Of Anything That Comes Into Your Head, Especially The Miseries. Then Arrange In Lines Of Two, Three Or Four Words Each, Don't Bother About Sentences, In Sections Of Two, Three Or Four Lines Each.

The Hero Surviving His Own Murder, His Own Suicide, His Own Addiction, Surviving His Own Disappearance From The Scene

Let Go Of The Spirit Of The Departed, And Continue The Celebration Of Your Own Life.