I Can't Envision An Honest

There's Something Immediate About The Experience Of Reading A Poem. It Makes Sense In My Own Mind, But I'm Trying To Figure Out A Way To Articulate It... It's Like Looking At A Painting: You're Able To Take In The Totality Of The Work All At Once, And So Processing Whatever Information That Painting Is Giving You Is Almost Secondary To Simply Apprehending What's In Front Of You.

I Understood That 'the Yellow Birds' Would Be A Peculiar Representation Of The Experience Of Being At War. I Intended It To Be So.

I Guess I Find The Boundaries Between Poetry And Prose To Be Somewhat Permeable.

I Knew That At Least A Few Of The Stars I Saw Were Probably Gone Already, Collapsed Into Nothing. I Felt Like I Was Looking At A Lie. But I Didn't Mind. The World Makes Liars Of Us All.

Joining The Military Is Not To Be Taken Lightly. You're Putting Every Part Of Yourself At Risk, Not Just Your Body But Your Moral And Spiritual Centre.