In Goya's Greatest Scenes We Seem To

Well, I Didn't Know How To Draw Very Well Back Then, In The '40s And '50s.

Recipe For Happiness Khaborovsk Or Anyplace' One Grand Boulevard With Trees With One Grand Cafe In Sun With Strong Black Coffee In Very Small Cups. One Not Necessarily Very Beautiful Man Or Woman Who Loves You. One Fine Day.

[in The True Mad North] Of Introspection, Where 'falcons Of The Inner Eye' Dive And Die, Glimpsing In Their Dying Fall, All Life's Memory Of Existence.

Southern California, Where The American Dream Came Too True.

Poetry Can Change The World, Just Like Any Art Can Change The World, By Changing Consciousness. Of Course This Was The Great Slogan Of The Nineteen Sixites Hippies’ Revolution—enlarge The Area Of Consciousness, Which Quite Often Was Done By Psychedelic Means.