The Poetry That Sustains Me Is When

The Sound Of The Mandolin Is A Very Curious Sound Because It's Cheerful And Melancholy At The Same Time, And I Think It Comes From That Shadow String, The Double Strings.

For Years, I Had Heard About The Lack Of Interest In Literature In The U.s. And I Had Complained About The Lack Of Respect Artists Got Here. In My Heart, I Failed To Understand How People Could Fail To Be Moved By Art.

My Best Times Are Midnight To Six Actually. I'll Leaf Through My Notebooks And If Something Catches My Eye And I Feel Like I Want To Transfer It From The Notebook To The Page, I Do, And Then Comes This Very Strange Process Which Is Difficult To Describe In That I'll Write Until I Get Stuck Or I Can't Go Any Further Or I'm Boring Myself Or Whatever And Then I Might Go To Another Poem.

From The Time I Began To Read, As A Child, I Loved To Feel Their Heft In My Hand And The Warm Spot Caused By Their Intimate Weight In My Lap; I Loved The Crisp Whisper Of A Page Turning, The Musky Odor Of Old Paper And The Sharp Inky Whiff Of New Pages. Leather Bindings Sent Me Into Ecstasy. I Even Loved To Gaze At A Closed Book And Daydream About The Possibilities Inside.

Have You Ever Heard A Good Joke? If You've Ever Heard Someone Just Right, With The Right Pacing, Then You're Already On The Way To Poetry. It's About Using Words In Very Precise Ways And Using Gesture.