Either I'm Too Sensitive, Or

Never Make It Perfect.

You Know, Sometimes A Person's Reputation Can Be Far More Colossal Than The Influence Of The Person. I Don't Pay Any Attention To It Anymore.

I Said, You Know They Refused Jesus, Too. He Said, You're Not Him.

I Accept Chaos, I'm Not Sure Whether It Accepts Me.

I Don't Know If I Call Myself A Poet Or Not. I Would Like To, But I'm Not Really Qualified To Make That Decision, Because I Come In On Such A Back Door, That I Don't Know What A Robert Frost Or A [john] Keats Or A T.s. Eliot Would Really Think Of My Stuff.