I Wonder If The Artist

It Is A Dead Heart. It Is Inside Of Me. It Is A Stranger Yet Once It Was Agreeable, Opening And Closing Like A Clam.

Jewels! Today Each Twig Is Important, Each Ring, Each Infection, Each Form Is All That The Gods Must Have Meant.

It Doesn't Matter Who My Father Was; It Matters Who I Remember He Was.

Images Are The Heart Of Poetry ... You're Not A Poet Without Imagery.

I Am Teaching... This Year It's Kind Of Like Having A Love Affair With A Rhinoceros.