She'd Crack A Joke Sharp As A

She'd Crack A Joke Sharp As A Tin Lid Hot From The Teeth Of The Can-opener, And Cackle Her Crack-corn Laugh.

I'm Not Asking A Poem To Carry A Lot Of Rocks In Its Pockets. Just Being An Ordinary Observer And Liver And Feeler And Letting The Experience Get Through You Onto The Notebook With The Pen, Through The Arm, Out Of The Body, Onto The Page, Without Distortion.

Poets Are Like Steam Valves, Where The Ordinary Feelings Of Ordinary People Can Escape And Be Shown.

Baseball Is Reassuring. It Makes Me Feel As If The World Is Not Going To Blow Up.

... Sometimes I Can Feel It, The Way We Are Pouring Slowly Toward A Curve And Around It Through Something Dark And Soft, And We Are Bound To Each Other.