Man is no form no mighty molecule no justidea alone — all that Thing — I feel man tender radiance at Heart betweenbreast and belly, that physical placewhere the Self urges — delicate sensation

The Wisdom of Solomon (Carl) They censor words not the things they denote:It would create less of a stir to drop a piece of shit on Grant's tombthan to write it out in white paint. Because people recognize that's what memorials are for–old bums & dogs to shit on.

Love that bore me I bear back to my Origin with no loss, I float over the vomiterthrilled with my deathlessness, thrilled with this endlessness I dice and bury,come Poet shut up eat my word, and taste my mouth in your ear.

I’m with you in Rockland where we are great writers on the same dreadful typewriter

You know me now. I’m only good at beginnings.

Scientist alone is true poet.

Sunflower poised against the sunset, crackly bleak and dusty with the smut and smog and smoke of olden locomotives in its eye—corolla of bleary spikes pushed down and broken like a battered crown, seeds fallen out of its face, soon-to-be-toothless mouth of sunny air, sunrays obliterated on its hairy head like a dried wire spiderweb,leaves stuck out like arms out of the stem, gestures from the sawdust root, broke pieces of plaster fallen out of the black twigs, a dead fly in its ear