Go So Deep Into Yourself, You Speak

Goodbye, You Who Are, For Me, The Postmarks Again Of Shattered Towns--xenia, Burnt Cabins, Hornell-- Their Loneliness Given Away In Poems, Only Their Solitude Kept.

I Have Always Intended To Live Forever; But Not Until Now, To Live Now.

There Are Two Versions To Every Poem – The Crying Version And The Straight Version

Perhaps Poetry Will Be The Canary In The Mine-shaft Warning Us Of What's To Come.

The Bud Stands For All Things, Even For Those Things That Don't Flower