Death, Vicious Death, Leave A

A Nation That Does Not Support And Encourage Its Theater Is - If Not Dead - Dying; Just As A Theater That Does Not Capture With Laughter And Tears The Social And Historical Pulse, The Drama Of Its People, The Genuine Color Of The Spiritual And Natural Landscape, Has No Right To Call Itself Theater; But Only A Place For Amusement.

Hail, Mute Devil! You Are The Most Intense Animal. An Eternal Mystic Of The Fleshly Inferno.

The Two Elements The Traveler First Captures In The Big City Are Extra Human Architecture And Furious Rhythm. Geometry And Anguish.

My Poetry Is A Game. My Life Is A Game. But I Am Not A Game.

The Wounds Were Burning Like Suns At Five In The Afternoon, And The Crowd Broke The Windows At Five In The Afternoon. Ah, That Fatal Five In The Afternoon! It Was Five By All The Clocks! It Was Five In The Shade Of The Afternoon!