Words Are My Passion / And Out

Solitude Is The Salt Of Personhood. It Brings Out The Authentic Flavor Of Every Experience.

Now I Become Myself. It’s Taken Time, Many Years And Places.

Poetry Finds Its Perilous Equilibrium Somewhere Between Music And Speech.

I Know You Have Much To Bear With In Me, And I Really Do Sometimes In You, But I Have Never Looked At Friendship In A Deep Sense As Easy Or Entirely Comfortable.

If I Were To Choose One Single Thing That That Would Restore Paris To The Senses, It Would Be That Strangely Sweet, Unhealthy Smell Of The Métro, So Very Unlike The Dank Cold Or The Stuffy Heat Of Subways In New York.