I'm Uncomfortable With The Focus On The

I Knew Life Began Where I Stood In The Dark, Looking Out Into The Light.

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

Blue Is The Insides Of Something Mysterious And Lonely. I'd Look At Fish And Birds, Thinking The Sky And Water Colored Them. The First Abyss Is Blue. An Artist Must Go Beyond The Mercy Of Satin Or Water-from A Gutty Hue To That Which Is Close To Royal Purple. All Seasons And Blossoms Inbetween. Lavender. Theatrical And Outrageous Electric. Almost Gray. True And False Blue. Water And Oil. The Gas Jet Breathing In Oblivion. The Unstruck Match. The Blue Of Absence. The Blue Of Deep Presence. The Insides Of Something Perfect.

I Excavate History. I Look At Lives Buried Under Too Much Silence. Periods Of Time, Like Slavery, Have To Be Revisited, Reimagined, So We Can Move Through Them.

I Define Poetry As Celebration And Confrontation. When We Witness Something, Are We Responsible For What We Witness? That's An On-going Existential Question. Perhaps We Are And Perhaps There's A Kind Of Daring, A Kind Of Necessary Energetic Questioning. Because Often I Say It's Not What We Know, It's What We Can Risk Discovering.