It Is My Heart That's Late, It

I Dance/for The Joy Of Surviving, At The Edge Of The Road.

An Old Poet Ought Never To Be Caught With His Technique Showing.

Darling, Do You Remember The Man You Married? Touch Me, Remind Me Who I Am.

You Must Be Careful Not To Deprive The Poem Of Its Wild Origin.

The Unconscious Creates, The Ego Edits.