The Art Finds Kingdoms In A Foot

And Thames And All The Rivers Of The Kings Ran Into Mississippi And Were Drowned. They Planted England With A Stubborn Trust But The Cleft Dust Was Never English Dust.

Honesty Is As Rare As A Man Without Self-pity.

Most Of The Time I'm Not Really Attracted To Writing That's Focused On Filling And Fighting It Out Within A Well-defined Container. I Like Work That Gets Out In The World And Lets The World Shape The Poem.

I Shall Not Rest Quiet In Montparnasse. I Shall Not Lie Easy At Winchelsea. You May Bury My Body In Sussex Grass, You May Bury My Tongue At Champmedy. I Shall Not Be There. I Shall Rise And Pass. Bury My Heart At Wounded Knee

We Thought We Were Done With These Things But We Were Wrong. We Thought, Because We Had Power, We Had Wisdom.