Once we dreamt that we were strangers. We wake up to find that we were dear to each other.

A bird half wakened in the lunar noonSang halfway through its little inborn tune.

The world we suggest is a new wild west. A sensuous evil world. Strange and haunting, the path of the sun.

If my poetry aims to achieve anything, it's to deliver people from the limited ways in which they see and feel.

Listen, real poetry doesn't say anything; it just ticks off the possibilities. Opens all doors. You can walk through any one that suits you.

I can make the earth stop in its tracks. I made the blue cars go away. I can make myself invisible or small. I can become gigantic & reach the farthest things. I can change the course of nature. I can place myself anywhere in space or time. I can summon the dead. I can perceive events on other worlds, in my deepest inner mind, & in the minds of others. I can I am.