With Melted Opals For My

As You Get Older, You Find That Often The Wheat, Disentangling Itself From The Chaff, Comes Out To Meet You.

This Is The Urgency: Live! And Have Your Blooming In The Noise Of The Whirlwind.

I Like The Concentration, The Crush; I Like Working With Language, As Others Like Working With Clay, Or Notes.

A Poem Doesn't Do Everything For You. You Are Supposed To Go On With Your Thinking. You Are Supposed To Enrich The Other Person's Poem With Your Extensions, Your Uniquely Personal Understandings, Thus Making The Poem Serve You.

The Poetry Is Myself.