Poetry Is The Enemy Of The Poem.

Darling, Do You Remember The Man You Married? Touch Me, Remind Me Who I Am.

Memory Is Each Man's Poet-in-residence.

I Want To Write Poems That Are Natural, Luminous, Deep, Spare. I Dream Of An Art So Transparent That You Can Look Through And See The World.

My Mother Never Forgave My Father

A Longing For The Dance Stirs In The Buried Life.