Stories Are The Reproductive Organs Of Language.

When You Think Intensely And Beautifully, Something Happens. That Something Is Called Poetry. If You Think That Way And Speak At The Same Time, Poetry Gets In Your Mouth. If People Hear You, It Gets In Their Ears. If You Think That Way And Write At The Same Time, Then Poetry Gets Written. But Poetry Exists In Any Case. The Question Is Only: Are You Going To Take Part, And If So, How?

A Lot Of Poems Seem, In Some Sense, To Pull The Outside World Into The Interior. They Aren't Perhaps Emotion Recollected In Tranquillity But Perception Recollected In Interiority.

Wings Are A Constraint That Makes It Possible To Fly.

My Own View Is That Violence Is A Part Of Classical Haida Literature - And Of Every Mythology Everywhere, So Far As I Can Tell - Because It's Part Of Life Itself. In The World Of The Hamburger Stand And The Supermarket, Or The Vegan Café And The Ashram, You Might Try To Tell Yourself It's Possible To Be Nonviolent. In A Hunting And Gathering Society, Violence Is More Difficult To Hide.

Typography At Its Best Is A Visual Form Of Language Linking Timelessness And Time.