Nothing Helps An Artist's Career More Than

The Future Is Like Smoke From A Burning Forest, Waiting For The Wind Of Specific Events And Personal Courage To Blow The Sparks And Embers Of Reality This Way Or That.

Its Hard To Die. Harder To Live

The Life Of A Poet Lies Not Merely In The Finite Language-dance Of Expression But In The Nearly Infinite Combinations Of Perception And Memory Combined With The Sensitivity To What Is Perceived And Remembered.

A Token Of Ecological Awareness In A Society Devoted To Self Destruction And Waste But Unwilling To Acknowledge Its Indulgent Ways.

Words Are The Only Bullets In Truth's Bandolier. And Poets Are The Snipers.