Where Then Shall Hope And Fear Their

To The Poet As A Basement Quilt, But Perhaps To Some Reader A Latticework Of Regrets.

Poetry Comes To Me Out Of Thin Air Or Out Of My Unconscious Mind. It's Sort Of The Way Dreams Come To Us And The Way That We Get Knowledge From Them, Through Television, Old Movies, Which I Watch A Lot Of. Lines Of Dialogue Suddenly Seem To Be Part Of A Poem.

Will Occur As Time Grows More Open About It.

Death Is A New Office Building Filled With Modern Furniture, A Wise Thing, But Which Has No Purpose For Us.

Until Only Infinity Remained Of Beauty