The Poet Is At The

After You Have Written A Thing And You Reread It, There Is Always The Temptation To Fix It Up, To Improve It, To Remove Its Poison, Blunt Its Sting.

Keep Braiding One's Wavelengths Back Into Oneself. That Way They Gain All The More External Power And Surround Us With A Huge Affective And Protective Zone. Don't Talk About This. Never Talk About Our Secret Methods. If We Talk About Them, They Stop Working.

The Artist Is A Kind Of Prison From Which The Works Of Art Escape.

The Poet, By Composing Poems, Uses A Language That Is Neither Dead Nor Living, That Few People Speak, And Few People Understand We Are The Servants Of An Unknown Force That Lives Within Us, Manipulates Us, And Dictates This Language To Us.

French People Are Italian People In A Bad Mood.