Direct Me Gods, Whose Changes

One Joins The Movement In A Valueless World, Choosing It, Till Both Hurler And The Hurled, One Moves As Well, Always Toward, Toward.

I Was Reading The Poems Of Rochester. Rochester Made Himself Out To Be Bisexual, But I Think That Was Only To Shock. Most Of His Poetry Is Sexual, Even Pornographic.

I Admired What My Students Were Writing, But I Think Their Improvement Doesn't Directly Result From Me But From Being In A Class, Being With Each Other.

Deep Feeling Doesn't Make For Good Poetry. A Way With Language Would Be A Bit Of Help.

The Painter Saw What Was, An Alternate Candor And Secrecy Inside The Skin.