At One Point I Took On A

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.

Because A Poem Is Not Written While Running Or While Answering The Phone. It's Written In Whatever Minutes One Has. Sometimes You Have Half An Hour.

I Think That My Work Is Easy To Understand Because I Am Not A Thinker, I Am Not A... How Can I Put It? I Write The Way I Perceive, I Guess.

Everyone Is So Different. I Sometimes Wish I Wrote In A Different Way. You Know, That Feeling Of: So-and-so Writes Slowly, If Only I Wrote Slowly.

I'm Not Asking A Poem To Carry A Lot Of Rocks In Its Pockets. Just Being An Ordinary Observer And Liver And Feeler And Letting The Experience Get Through You Onto The Notebook With The Pen, Through The Arm, Out Of The Body, Onto The Page, Without Distortion.