something deathly about reading one's own entrails
flying against the wall
The adjoining room was also blood red.
Dead poets are infinitely preferable to nothing
why do I come away from so many art "experiences"?
one has to live, in a white room
So there were reasons.
but I no longer care if it's a rational response.
The use of chance is a technique
The point was perfectly clear to me...
There is much to be said
bad poets we always have with us
go on, read it again.