Knowledge Is The Harvest Of Attention

I Defer To All These Other American Poets Who, For Some Reason, I Both Envy And Admire.

Forgive Me If I Sleep Until I Wake Up.

Love Is Form, And Cannot Be Without Important Substance

My Life Has Been Given Its Orders: The Seasons Seize The Soul And The Body, And Make Mock Of Any Dispersed Effort. The Hour Of Death Is The Only Trespass

An American Is A Complex Of Occasions, Themselves A Geometry Of Spatial Nature.