I Feel That Poetry Is Going On

I Tried Each Thing, Only Some Were Immortal And Free.

The Summer Demands And Takes Away Too Much. /but Night, The Reserved, The Reticent, Gives More Than It Takes

Then Let Yourself Love All That You Take Delight In Accept Yourself Whole, Accept The Heritage That Shaped You And Is Passed On From Age To Age Down To Your Entity. Remain Mysterious; Rather Than Be Pure, Accept Yourself As Numerous.

Not Until It Starts To Stink Does The Inevitable Happen.

I Think That In The Process Of Writing, All Kinds Of Unexpected Things Happen That Shift The Poet Away From His Plan And That These Accidents Are Really What We Mean When We Talk About Poetry.