Rhythm To Me Is Essentially

I Associate The Garden With The Whole Experience Of Being Alive, And So, There Is Nothing In The Range Of Human Experience That Is Separate From What The Garden Can Signify In Its Eagerness And Its Insistence, And In Its Driving Energy To Live -- To Grow, To Bear Fruit.

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

It Is My Heart That's Late, It Is My Song That's Flown.

A Poet Needs To Keep His Wilderness Alive Inside Him. To Remain A Poet After Forty Requires An Awareness Of Your Darkest Africa, That Part Of Yourself That Will Never Be Tamed.

What Makes The Engine Go? Desire, Desire, Desire.