Poetry Is An Orphan Of Silence.

Wanted: A Needle Swift Enough To Sew This Poem Into A Blanket.

There’s No Preparation For Poetry.

He Who Cannot Howl Will Not Find His Pack.

In Their Effort To Divorce Language And Experience, Deconstructionist Critics Remind Me Of Middle-class Parents Who Do Not Allow Their Children To Play In The Street.

When People Ask Me How To Find Happiness In Life I Tell Them, First Learn How To Cook.