I Don't Decide To Represent Anything Except

If The Olive Trees Knew The Hands That Planted Them, Their Oil Would Become Tears.

I Don't Decide To Represent Anything Except Myself. But That Self Is Full Of Collective Memory.

The Poem Is In My Hands, And Can Run Stories Through Her Hands.

Poetry Is Perhaps What Teaches Us To Nurture The Charming Illusion: How To Be Reborn Out Of Ourselves Over And Over Again, And Use Words To Construct A Better World, A Fictitious World That Enables Us To Sign A Pact For A Permanent And Comprehensive Peace ... With Life.

To Be Under Occupation, To Be Under Siege, Is Not A Good Inspiration For Poetry.