Poetry Today Is Easier To Write But

In My Darkest Night, When The Moon Was Covered And I Roamed Through Wreckage, A Nimbus-clouded Voice Directed Me: "live In The Layers, Not On The Litter." Though I Lack The Art To Decipher It, No Doubt The Next Chapter In My Book Of Transformations Is Already Written. I Am Not Done With My Changes.

The Universe Is A Continuous Web. Touch It At Any Point And The Whole Web Quivers.

A Poet Needs To Keep His Wilderness Alive Inside Him.

Darling, Do You Remember The Man You Married? Touch Me, Remind Me Who I Am.

Memory Is Each Man's Poet-in-residence.