I cannot live here...
   With all these notebooks of my endless poetry
      scattered in disarray -
each of them means months of work for me -
  to be put on the computor,
    compiled into books,
      printed,
        bound,
           sold out...


With all these negatives and albums
    waiting to be edited,
      enlarged,
        printed,
           displayed,
               distributed...

I can only work here -
    day and night
and I need another half a century
   to put all this to rights...



Feb.16, 2009