My Job Is My Own Only Land.

My Job Is My Own Only Land.

Before We Can Leave Our Parents, They Stuff Our Heads Like The Suitcases Which They Jam-pack With Homemade Underwear.

Reading Ngo Tu Lap's Poems, Terrible Nostalgia Wells Up In Me- Nostalgia For A Lost Time And A Far-gone Country, Nostalgia For People I've Loved, And For Creatures Of Forests And Rivers. I Feel Gratitude Too. War Is Over. Peace Arrives With These Beautiful Poems.

When I Am Composing, I Try To Clear My Mind Of Having To Publish, Or Having To Sell A Book Or Find Readers. That Kind Of Thinking Gets In The Way.

In A Time Of Destruction, Create Something: A Poem, A Parade, A Community, A School, A Vow, A Moral Principle; One Peaceful Moment.