I Want A Bedroom Near The Sky,

I Don't Find Any Direct Statements In Life. My Poetry Imitates Or Reproduces The Way Knowledge Or Awareness Come To Me, Which Is By Fits And Starts And By Indirection. I Don't Think Poetry Arranged In Neat Patterns Would Reflect That Situation. My Poetry Is Disjunct, But Then So Is Life.

I Always Thought That Writing Poetry Was In Itself A Political Act.

And The Way Though Discontinuous, And Intermittent, Sometimes Not Heard Of For Years At A Time, Did, Nonetheless, Move Up, Although, To His Surprise It Was Inside The House, And Always Getting Narrower.

Poetry Comes To Me Out Of Thin Air Or Out Of My Unconscious Mind. It's Sort Of The Way Dreams Come To Us And The Way That We Get Knowledge From Them, Through Television, Old Movies, Which I Watch A Lot Of. Lines Of Dialogue Suddenly Seem To Be Part Of A Poem.

The Sun Fades Like The Spreading Of A Peacock's Tail, As Though Twilight Might Be Read As A Warning To Those Desperate For Easy Solutions.