There’s No Preparation For Poetry.

Poetry Is An Orphan Of Silence. The Words Never Quite Equal The Experience Behind Them.

The Stars Know Everything, So We Try To Read Their Minds. As Distant As They Are, We Choose To Whisper In Their Presence.

The Plain Truth Is We Are Going To Die. Here I Am, A Teeny Spec Surrounded By Boundless Space And Time, Arguing With The Whole Of Creation, Shaking My Fist, Sputtering, Growing Even Eloquent At Times, And Then-poof! I Am Gone. Swept Off Once And For All. I Think That Is Very, Very Funny.

Poems Are Other People's Snapshots In Which We See Our Own Lives.

I Slept Little, Read A Lot, And Fell In Love Frequently.