Bring To Me, It Said, Continual Proof

I Don't Let A Poem Go Into The World Unless I Feel That I've Transformed The Experience In Some Way. Even Poems I've Written In The Past That Appear Very Personal Often Are Fictions Of The Personal, Which Nevertheless Reveal Concerns Of Mine. I've Always Thought Of My First-person Speaker As An Amalgam Of Selves, Maybe Of Other People's Experiences As Well.

What Feeling Feels Like Over Time. An Attempt To Screw Up What Feeling Feels Like Over Time. Heartbreak And A High C.... The Often Welcome Melodic Lie.... The Soul's Undersong. The Orchestration Of Randomness, A Flirtation With The Boundaries Of Silence And Space.... A Reminder That The Self Wants To Disappear, Be Taken Away From Itself And Returned.

A Moment Of Something Between Acceptance And Resignation Of One's Smallness In The World.

Everything I Can't See / Is At Least As Real As What I Can.

I Will Try To Disappoint You Better Than Anyone Ever Has.