Wanted: A Needle Swift Enough To Sew

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

Here Is Something We Can All Count On. Sooner Or Later Our Tribe Always Comes To Ask Us To Agree To Murder.

If I Believe In Anything, It Is In The Dark Night Of The Soul. Awe Is My Religion, And Mystery Is Its Church.

A Poem Is An Invitation To A Voyage. As In Life, We Travel To See Fresh Sights.

The Stone Is A Mirror Which Works Poorly. Nothing In It But Dimness. Your Dimness Or Its Dimness, Who's To Say? In The Hush Your Heart Sounds Like A Black Cricket.