The People Know What The Land Knows.

I Wrote Poems In My Corner Of The Brooks Street Station. I Sent Them To Two Editors Who Rejected Them Right Off. I Read Those Letters Of Rejection Years Later And I Agreed With Those Editors.

There Will Be A Rusty Gun On The Wall, Sweetheart, The Rifle Grooves Curling With Flakes Of Rust. A Spider Will Make A Silver String Nest In The Darkest, Warmest Corner Of It.

Poetry Is The Opening And Closing Of A Door, Leaving Those Who Look Through To Guess About What Is Seen During The Moment.

My Name Is Truth And I Am The Most Elusive Captive In The Universe.

Poetry Is Statement Of A Series Of Equations, With Numbers And Symbols Changing Like The Changes Of Mirrors, Pools, Skies, The Only Never-changing Sign Being The Sign Of Infinity.