A Poem Is A Window That Hangs

It Was As If Pain Were A Room He Had Entered And The Door Had Been Locked Behind Him.

I'm Reading "the Sunset Of A Splendid Century" By W.h. Lewis. He Was C.s. Lewis's Brother. He Wrote Two Books About The French Court Of Louis Xiv That Are Incredibly Detailed. They Are Books That On Every Page You Say, "wow, Think Of That."

I'm Reading A Manuscript By Rodney Jones, "village Prodigies",it's One Of The Best Contemporary Poetry Books I've Ever Read Ever.

These People You Used To See Every Day, Friends Or Acquaintances, After A While They Become As Distant As Any Stranger, People You Suddenly Recall Late At Night--you Remember Something They Said Or Something Silly That Someone Once Did. For A Few Moments They Completely Occupy Your Mind; Then You Forget Them Again.

I Remember Coming Upon Philip Larkin In My 20s In The Early '60s And When Sylvia Plath's "ariel" Came Out It Knocked Me Off My Feet.