The Ear Writes My Poems, Not The

Some Poems Present Themselves As Cliffs That Need To Be Climbed. Others Are So Defensive That When You Approach Their Enclosure You Half Expect To Be Met By A Snarling Dog At The Gate. Still Others Want To Smother You With Their Sticky Charms.

Not That You Need To Be A Saint To Have Visions Worth Talking About. The Most Effective Prescription, I Suspect, Is To Be A Disciplined Sinner. Perfection, As Valery Noted, Is Work.

End With An Image And Don't Explain.

Poetry Is Language Surprised In The Act Of Changing Into Meaning.

Be What You Are. Give What Is Yours To Give. Have Style. Dare.