If You Want To Know How Much

Maybe There Are Three Or Four Really Good Poets In A Generation.

When You Finish A Poem, It Clicks Shut Like The Top Of A Jewel Box, But Prose Is Endless. I Haven't Experienced An Awful Lot Of Clicking Shut!

Picasso Said Once When Being Interviewed That One Should Not Be One's Own Connoisseur.

One Day The Nouns Were Clustered In The Street. An Adjective Walked By, With Her Dark Beauty. The Nouns Were Struck, Moved, Changed. The Next Day A Verb Drove Up, And Created The Sentence.

This Rose Became A Bandanna, Which Became A House, Which Became Infused With All Passion, Which Became A Hideaway, Which Became Yes I Would Like To Have Dinner, Which Became Hands, Which Became Lands, Shores, Beaches, Natives On The Stones, Staring And Wild Beasts In The Trees, Chasing The Hats Of Lost Hunters, And All This Deserves A Tone.