I Am Always Pleased To Be Asked

The Poem Is A Form Of Texting... It's The Original Text. It's A Perfecting Of A Feeling In Language - It's A Way Of Saying More With Less, Just As Texting Is.

Time Hates Love, Wants Love Poor,/but Love Spins Gold, Gold, Gold From Straw.

It Is A Moon Wrapped In Brown Paper.

As Anyone Who Has The Slightest Knowledge Of My Work Knows, I Have Little In Common With Larkin, Who Was Tall, Taciturn And Thin-on-top, And Unlike Him I Laugh, Nay, Sneer, In The Face Of Death. I Will Concede One Point: We Are Both Lesbian Poets.

You Have Me Like A Drawing, Erased, Coloured In, Untitled, Signed By Your Tongue.