Summer In The Trees! “it Is Time

I Never Thought Of Myself As A New York Poet Or As An American Poet.

Politics Is There The Way Men And Women Are There, The Way The Atlantic Ocean Is There. Sometimes I've Written About Politics Specifically, I Mean About Politics As It's Understood On Television And In Newspapers.

It's Enormously Cheering To Get A Good Review By Someone Who Seems To Understand Your Work.

One Trouble With A Kind Of Falsely Therapeutic And Always Reassuring Attitude That It Is Easy To Fall Into With Old People, Is The Tendency To Be Satisfied With Too Little.

This Rose Became A Bandanna, Which Became A House, Which Became Infused With All Passion, Which Became A Hideaway, Which Became Yes I Would Like To Have Dinner, Which Became Hands, Which Became Lands, Shores, Beaches, Natives On The Stones, Staring And Wild Beasts In The Trees, Chasing The Hats Of Lost Hunters, And All This Deserves A Tone.