You Will Always Be The Bread And

I Stared Up At The Ebbing Quarter Moon And The Stars Scattered Like A Handful Of Salt Across The Faraway Sky.

The Poem Is Not, As Someone Put It, Deflective Of Entry. But The Real Question Is, 'what Happens To The Reader Once He Or She Gets Inside The Poem?' That's The Real Question For Me, Is Getting The Reader Into The Poem And Then Taking The Reader Somewhere, Because I Think Of Poetry As A Kind Of Form Of Travel Writing.

This Love For Everyday Things, Part Natural From The Wide Eye Of Infancy, Part A Literary Calculation

I Think My Work Has To Do With A Sense That We Are Attempting, All The Time, To Create A Logical, Rational Path Through The Day. To The Left And Right There Are An Amazing Set Of Distractions That We Usually Can't Afford To Follow. But The Poet Is Willing To Stop Anywhere.

I Can Hear The Library Humming In The Night, A Choir Of Authors Murmuring Inside Their Books Along The Unlit, Alphabetical Shelves, Giovanni Pontano Next To Pope, Dumas Next To His Son, Each One Stitched Into His Own Private Coat, Together Forming A Low, Gigantic Chord Of Language.