How You Die Out In Me: Down

The Language With Which I Make My Poems Has Nothing To Do With One Spoken Here, Or Anywhere.

There's Nothing In The World For Which A Poet Will Give Up Writing, Not Even He Is A Jew And The Language Of His Poems Is German.

Black Milk Of Daybreak We Drink It At Sundown.

No One Bears Witness For The Witness

Don't Sign Your Name Between Worlds, Surmount The Manifold Of Meanings, Trust The Tearstain, Learn To Live.