Tuesday, May 10, 2011

Whatever happens is meat for my poetry...

"I can't tell whether I'm cynical or optimistic - whether there is something out there organising a life of pleasure or pain for us. It's beyond my scope. Things happen to me. I record what happens. I don't care why. Whatever happens is meat for my poetry. My poetry and my personality are synonymous. I enjoy reading cosmological works but haven't been able to discern any pattern to my existence or any rhythmical relation between myself and others. I don't hunger after being part of a total harmony or tragedy or feel 'alienated' in any way." - Sinclair Beiles, letter to Gerard Bellart, editor of Cold Turkey Press, May 1969.

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