I Never Thought Of Myself

As I Look Over My Work, I Mean Every Time I Look Over My Early Work, I See, Yes, I Could Do That Then And Then I Could Do That And That... That May Be The Hardest Thing For A Writer, At Least For A Poet, To Tell What The Identity Of His Work Is.

This Rose Became A Bandanna, Which Became A House, Which Became Infused With All Passion, Which Became A Hideaway, Which Became Yes I Would Like To Have Dinner, Which Became Hands, Which Became Lands, Shores, Beaches, Natives On The Stones, Staring And Wild Beasts In The Trees, Chasing The Hats Of Lost Hunters, And All This Deserves A Tone.

All Poetry Comes From Repetition.

I Never Thought Of Myself As A New York Poet Or As An American Poet.

It Takes A Long Time To Publish A Book.