I Don’t Think We Can

A Book Of Poems Doesn't Just Come Out By Chance, An Editor Has To Select It, A Publisher Has To Distribute It Or You Will Never See It.

Strangers Are An Endangered Species.

The Unconscious Wants Truth, As The Body Does. The Complexity And Fecundity Of Dreams Come From The Complexity And Fecundity Of The Unconscious Struggling To Fulfill That Desire. The Complexity And Fecundity Of Poetry Come From The Same Struggle.

We See Daily That Our Lives Are Terrible And Little, Without Continuity, Buyable And Salable At Any Moment, Mere Blips On A Screen, That This Is The Way We Live Now. Memory Marketed As Nostalgia; Terror Reduced To Mere Suspense, To Melodrama.

I've Had To Guess At Her, Sewing Her Skin Together As I Sew Mine, Though With A Different Stitch