Those Of Us Who Make Up Poems

I Saw Sophia Loren - The Italian Woman With Those Wonderful Cheekbones - In A Movie The Other Day. She Must Have Had 24 Face-lifts, And She Looks Like An Alien, As If She Weren't From This World At All. Her Italian Wrinkles Would Have Been A Thousand Times More Beautiful.

I Knew This Friendship With Myself Couldn’t Last Forever.

As I've Gotten Older, I Find I Am Able To Be Nourished More By Sorrow And To Distinguish It From Depression.

One Day While Studying A Yeats Poem I Decided To Write Poetry The Rest Of My Life. I Recognized That A Single Short Poem Has Room For History, Music, Psychology, Religious Thought, Mood, Occult Speculation, Character, And Events Of One's Own Life. I Still Feel Surprised That Such Various Substances Can Find Shelter And Nourishment In A Poem. A Poem In Fact May Be A Sort Of Nourishing Liquid, Such As One Uses To Keep An Amoeba Alive. If Prepared Right, A Poem Can Keep An Image Or A Thought Or Insights On History Or The Psyche Alive For Years, As Well As Our Desires And Airy Impulses.

I Have Risen To A Body Not Yet Born, Existing Like A Light Around A Body Through Which The Body Moves Like A Sliding Moon.