fragment Meeting Tropic of Cancer
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
Acrostic Poem For Funny
I have no money, no resources, no hopes. I am the happiest man in the world. A year ago, six months ago, I thought I was an artist. I no longer think I am. Everything that was literature has fallen from me. No more books to write, thank God. So what is this? This is not a book. It is a libel, slander. The world is a cancer that devours itself. Henry Miller
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
0 comments:
Post a Comment