Poetry Is An Exhibit Of

Nearly All The Best Things That Came To Me In Life Have Been Unexpected, Unplanned By Me.

Poetry Is A Mystic, Sensuous Mathematics Of Fire, Smoke-stacks, Waffles, Pansies, People, And Purple Sunsets.

Nothing Happens... But First A Dream.

The Scholars And Poets Of An Earlier Time Can Be Read Only With A Dictionary To Help.

Corn Wind In The Fall, Come Off The Black Lands, Come Off The Whisper Of The Silk Hangers, The Lap Of The Flat Spear Leaves.