I Tried Each Thing, Only Some Were

What I Like About Music Is Its Ability To Be Convincing, To Carry An Argument Through Successfully To The Finish, Though The Terms Of The Argument Remain Unknown Quantities.

Each Servant Stamps The Reader With A Look.

Not Until It Starts To Stink Does The Inevitable Happen.

But Always And Sometimes Questioning The Old Modes And The New Wondering, The Poem, Growing Up Through The Floor, Standing Tall In Tubers, Invading And Smashing The Ritual Parlor, Demands To Be Met On Its Own Terms Now, Now That The Preliminary Negotiations Are At Last Over.

There Is The View That Poetry Should Improve Your Life. I Think People Confuse It With The Salvation Army.