"My safe, safe psychosis is broken. It was hard. It was made of stone. It covered my face like a mask. But it has cracked."
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"My safe, safe psychosis is broken. It was hard. It was made of stone. It covered my face like a mask. But it has cracked."
"I would like to think that no one would die anymore if we all believed in daisies but the worms know better, don't they? They slide into the ear of a corpse and listen to his great sigh."
"If the doctors cure then the sun sees it. If the doctors kill then the earth hides it. The doctors should fear arrogance more than cardiac arrest."
"Man is a bird full of mud, I say aloud. And death looks on with a casual eye and scratches his anus."
"God owns heaven but He craves the earth."
"After a disaster strikes, it can be very devastating and very challenging. You're going to need a lot of strength and energy, and the American Red Cross suggests you go for the high protein items."
"I remember the stink of the liverwurst. How I was put on a platter and laid between the mayonnaise and the bacon. The rhythm of the refrigerator had been disturbed."
"Images are the heart of poetry ... You're not a poet without imagery."
"I am not at home in myself. I am my own stranger."
"Mood can be as important as sense."
"I am teaching... This year it's kind of like having a love affair with a rhinoceros."
"I keep feeling that there isn't one poem being written by any one of us - or a book or anything like that. The whole life of us writers, the whole product I guess I mean, is the one long poem - a community effort if you will. It's all the same poem. It doesn't belong to any one writer - it's God's poem perhaps. Or God's people's poem."
"It would be pleasant to be drunk."
"Suicide is, after all, the opposite of the poem."
"I hoard books. They are people who do not leave."
"The ground has on its clothes. The trees poke out of sheets and each branch wears the sock of God."
"Rats live on no evil star"
"I sit at my desk each night with no place to go, opening the wrinkled maps of Milwaukee and Buffalo, the whole U.S., its cemeteries, its arbitrary time zones, through routes like small veins, capitals like small stones."
"You lay, a small knuckle on my white bed; lay, that fist like a snail, small and strong at my breast. Your lips are animals; you are fed with love. At first, hunger is not wrong."
"God went out of me as if the sea dried up like sandpaper, as if the sun became a latrine."