A Family Is A Mystery.

If I Wrote In A Sonnet Form, I Would Be Distorting. Or If I Had Some Great New Idea For Line Breaks And I Used It In A Poem, But It's Really Not Right For That Poem, But I Wanted It, That Would Be Distorting.

Maybe In Order To Understand Sex Fully/one Has To Risk Being Destroyed By It.

I Was A Late Bloomer. But Anyone Who Blooms At All, Ever, Is Very Lucky.

To Me, The Mind Seems To Be Spread Out In The Whole Body - The Senses Are Part Of The Brain. I Guess They're Not Where The Thinking Is Done.

Every Poet I Know - Although There May Be Some I Don't Know Who Lead Very Different Lives, Who Maybe Live In The Country And Don't Teach - Tends To Be Just Like The Rest Of Us: Just Really Busy, Really Overcommitted.