Still, Vicious Or Virtuous, Love Suits Most

Here Is An Unfenced Existance

What Are Days For? Days Are Where We Live. They Come, They Wake Us Time And Time Over. Theyare To Be Happy In: Where Can We Live But Days?

In Times When Nothing Stood But Worsened, Or Grew Strange, There Was One Constant Good: She Did Not Change.

It's Easy To Write When You've Nothing To Write About (that Is, When You Are Young).

As A Guiding Principle I Believe That Every Poem Must Be Its Own Sole Freshly Created Universe, And Therefore Have No Belief N 'tradition' Or A Common Myth-kitty Or Casual Allusions In Poems To Other Poems Or Poets, Which Last I Find Unpleasantly Like The Talk Of Literary Understrappers Letting You See They Know The Right People.