The Body Is A Damn Hard Thing

Blind With Love, My Daughter Has Cried Nightly For Horses, Those Long-necked Marchers And Churners That She Has Mastered, Any And All, Reigning Them In Like A Circus Hand.

Dead Drunk Is The Term I Think Of, Insensible, Neither Cool Nor Warm, Without A Head Or A Foot. To Be Drunk Is To Be Intimate With A Fool.

One Of My Secret Instructions To Myself As A Poet Is "whatever You Do, Don't Be Boring."

Meanwhile In My Head, I’m Undergoing Open-heart Surgery.

Today God Gives Milk / And I Have The Pail.