Time Is A Great Teacher, Who Can

Gather The Stars If You Wish It So Gather The Songs And Keep Them. Gather The Faces Of Women. Gather For Keeping Years And Years. And Then... Loosen Your Hands, Let Go And Say Good-bye. Let The Stars And Songs Go. Let The Faces And Years Go. Loosen Your Hands And Say Good-bye.

Poetry Is Any Page From A Sketchbook Of Outlines Of A Doorknob With Thumb-prints Of Dust, Blood, Dreams.

We Live In The Time Of The Colossal Upright Oblong.

In The Night The Cabbages Catch At The Moon, The Leaves Drip Silver, The Rows Of Cabbages Are A Series Of Little Silver Waterfalls In The Moon.

God, Let Me Remember All Good Losers.