I Said That Love Heals From Inside.

I’ve Been Here Before, Dreaming Myself Backwards, Among Grappling Hooks Of Light. True To The Seasons, I’ve Lived Every Word Spoken. Did I Walk Into Someone’s Nightmare?

Cursing Themselves In Ragged Dreamsfire Has Singed The Edges Of,they Know A Slow Dying The Fields Have Come To Terms With.shimmering Fans Work Against The Heat& Smell Of Gunpowder, Making Moneyfloat From Hand To Hand. The Next Momenta Rocket Pushes A White Fistthrough Night Sky, & They Scatter Like Birds& Fall Into The Shape Their Liveshave Become.

Whoever Said Men Hit Harder When Women Are Around, Is Right. Word For Word, We Beat The Love Out Of Each Other.

It Took Me 14 Years To Write Poems About Vietnam. I Had Never Thought About Writing About It, And In A Way I Had Been Systematically Writing Around It.

There's A Sameness About American Poetry That I Don't Think Represents The Whole People. It Represents A Poetry Of The Moment, A Poetry Of Evasion, And I Have Problems With This. I Believe Poetry Has Always Been Political, Long Before Poets Had To Deal With The Page And White Space . . . It's Natural.