Poems Are Other People's Snapshots In Which

The World Is Beautiful But Not Sayable. That's Why We Need Art.

Only Brooms Know The Devil Still Exists, That The Snow Grows Whiter After A Crow Has Flown Over It

For Emily Dickinson Every Philosophical Idea Was A Potential Lover. Metaphysics Is The Realm Of Eternal Seduction Of The Spirit By Ideas.

Inside My Empty Bottle I Was Constructing A Lighthouse While All Others Were Making Ships.

Poetry: Three Mismatched Shoes At The Entrance Of A Dark Alley.