I Knew This Friendship With Myself Couldn’t

I Wanted To Spend All My Time Writing Poetry. But When I Had Children I Couldn't Do That Anymore.

We Did Not Come To Remain Whole. We Came To Lose Our Leaves Like The Trees, Trees That Start Again.

If A Man, Cautious, Hides His Limp, Somebody Has To Limp It! Things Do It; The Surroundings Limp. House Walls Get Scars, The Car Breaks Down; Matter, In Drudgery, Takes It Up.

One Man Wrote Me, Saying, 'you Know Who You Are? You're Nothing But A Captain Bly Pissing Up A Drainpipe!'

The Best Poems Take Long Journeys. I Like Poetry Best That Journeys--while Remaining In The Human Scale--to The Other World, Which May Be A Place As Easily Overlooked As A Bee's Wing