I Heard You Asking Questions

Scientist Alone Is True Poet.

Poets Are Damned... But See With The Eyes Of Angels.

It's Time We Did Something To Assert Ourselves. After All, We Do Comprise 10% Of The Population.

I Have A New Method Of Poetry. All You Got To Do Is Look Over Your Notebooks... Or Lay Down On A Couch, And Think Of Anything That Comes Into Your Head, Especially The Miseries. Then Arrange In Lines Of Two, Three Or Four Words Each, Don't Bother About Sentences, In Sections Of Two, Three Or Four Lines Each.

Taxi September Along Jessore Road Oxcart Skeletons Drag Charcoal Load Past Watery Fields Thru Rain Flood Ruts Dung Cakes On Treetrunks, Plastic-roof Huts Wet Processions Families Walk Stunted Boys Big Heads Don't Talk Look Bony Skulls & Silent Round Eyes Starving Black Angels In Human Disguise.