I Shed More Tears Than God Could

Your Memory And Your Senses Will Be Nourishment For Your Creativity.

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

Weakness Or Strength: You Exist, That Is Strength. You Don't Know Where You Are Going Or Why You Are Going, Go In Everywhere, Answer Everyone. No One Will Kill You, Any More Than If You Were A Corpse.

-but I've Just Noticed That My Mind Is Asleep.

True Life Is Elsewhere