I See No Reason For Calling My

Poetry Is The Art Of Creating Imaginary Gardens With Real Toads.

Fanaticism? No. Writing Is Exciting And Baseball Is Like Writing. You Can Never Tell With Either How It Will Go.

Revision Is Its Own Reward.

Below The Incandescent Stars / Below The Incandescent Fruit, / The Strange Experience Of Beauty; / Its Existence Is Too Much; / It Tears One To Pieces / And Each Fresh Wave Of Consciousness / Is Poison.

That Which Is Impossible To Force, It Is Impossible To Hinder.