I Think The Dangers Are

How Would You Prepare To Die On A Perfect April Evening?

For Me, Poetry Is The Music Of Being Human. And Also A Time Machine By Which We Can Travel To Who We Are And To Who We Will Become.

Poets Deal In Writing About Feelings And Trying To Find The Language And Images For Intense Feelings.

What Do I Haveto Help Me, Without Spell Or Prayer,endure This Hour, Endless, Heartless, Anonymous,the Death Of Love?

I Have Piles Of Poetry Books In The Bathroom, On The Stairs, Everywhere. The Only Way To Write Poetry Is To Read It.