The Poem I Want To Write Is

Words Make Love On The Page Like Flies In The Summer Heat And The Poet Is Only The Bemused Spectator.

The Poem I Want To Write Is Impossible. A Stone That Floats.

I Was Already Dozing Off In The Shade, Dreaming That The Rustling Trees Were My Many Selves Explaining Themselves All At The Same Time So That I Could Not Make Out A Single Word. My Life Was A Beautiful Mystery On The Verge Of Understanding, Always On The Verge! Think Of It!

We Name One Thing And Then Another. That’s How Time Enters Poetry. Space, On The Other Hand, Comes Into Being Through The Attention We Pay To Each Word. The More Intense Our Attention, The More Space, And There’s A Lot Of Space Inside Words.

Insomnia Is An All-night Travel Agency With Posters Advertising Faraway Places.