I Think Of Language As Our First

I Excavate History. I Look At Lives Buried Under Too Much Silence. Periods Of Time, Like Slavery, Have To Be Revisited, Reimagined, So We Can Move Through Them.

I Like Connecting The Abstract To The Concrete. There's A Tension In That. I Believe The Reader Or Listener Should Be Able To Enter The Poem As A Participant. So I Try To Get Past Resolving Poems.

Through The Years I Have Seen Myself As A Peaceful Person, But The Awareness Of The Anger Is Part Of That Process.

Poets Are Seen As The Caretakers Of Language, So Working With Words No Matter What The Form Is What We Do.

Blue Is The Insides Of Something Mysterious And Lonely. I'd Look At Fish And Birds, Thinking The Sky And Water Colored Them. The First Abyss Is Blue. An Artist Must Go Beyond The Mercy Of Satin Or Water-from A Gutty Hue To That Which Is Close To Royal Purple. All Seasons And Blossoms Inbetween. Lavender. Theatrical And Outrageous Electric. Almost Gray. True And False Blue. Water And Oil. The Gas Jet Breathing In Oblivion. The Unstruck Match. The Blue Of Absence. The Blue Of Deep Presence. The Insides Of Something Perfect.