I Look Upon Another's Insistence

God Is An Immensity, While This Disease, This Death, Which Is In Me, This Small, Tightly Defined Pedestrian Event, Is Merely And Perfectly Real, Without Miracle—or Instruction.

In Our Opposed Forms Of Loneliness And Self-recognition And Recognition Of The Other, We Touched Each Other Often As We Spoke; And On Shore In Explorations Of The Past, We Strolled With Our Arms Linked.

Me, My Literary Reputation Is Mostly Abroad, But I Am Anchored Here In New York. I Can't Think Of Any Other Place I'd Rather Die Than Here.

Public Radio Is Alive And Kicking, It Always Has Been

I Am In An Adolescence In Reverse, As Mysterious As The First, Except That This Time I Feel It As A Decay Of The Odds That I Might Live For A While, That I Can Sleep It Off.