Fear / A Motor, / Pumps Me

I Am Younger Each Year At The First Snow.

O Yellow Eye, Let Me Be Sick With Your Heat, Let Me Be Feverish And Frowning.

...became A Woman Who Learned Her Own Skin And Dug Into Her Soul And Found It Full.

I Cannot Walk An Inch / Without Trying To Walk To God.

The Beautiful Feeling After Writing A Poem Is On The Whole Better Even Than After Sex, And That's Saying A Lot.