It Is My Heart That's

I Want To Write Poems That Are Natural, Luminous, Deep, Spare. I Dream Of An Art So Transparent That You Can Look Through And See The World.

The Poem In The Head Is Always Perfect. Resistance Begins When You Try To Convert It Into Language.

...few Young Poets [are] Testing Their Poems Against The Ear. They're Writing For The Page, And The Page, Let Me Tell You, Is A Cold Bed.

Poetry Is The Enemy Of The Poem.

I Dance/for The Joy Of Surviving, At The Edge Of The Road.