Poetry Is A Sequence Of Dots And

Time Is The Coin Of Your Life. It Is The Only Coin You Have, And Only You Can Determine How It Will Be Spent. Be Careful Lest You Let Other People Spend It For You.

Enough Small Empty Boxes Thrown Into A Big Empty Box Fill It Full.

The Woman Named Tomorrow Sits With A Hairpin In Her Teeth And Takes Her Time

There Are Men And Women So Lonely They Believe God, Too, Is Lonely.

I Make It Clear Why I Write As I Do And Why Other Poets Write As They Do. After Hundreds Of Experiments I Decided To Go My Own Way In Style And See What Would Happen.