Poetry - Poiesis Means A Thing Made.

Death . . . And Now You Are Here To Fight For This Woman. You Know Her Promise Is Given. She Has To Die Or Her Husband Won't Go Free. Apollo Relax, I'm Not Breaking Any Laws. Death Why The Bow, If You're Breaking No Laws? Apollo I Always Carry A Bow, It's My Trademark.

They Were Two Superior Eels At The Bottom Of The Tank And They Recognized Each Other Like Italics.

Blessed Be They Whose Lives Do Not Taste Of Evilbut If Some God Shakes Your Houseruin Arrivesruin Does Not Leaveit Comes Tolling Over The Generationsit Comes Rolling The Black Night Salt Up From The Ocean Floorand All Your Thrashed Coasts Groan

I Don't Know That We Really Think Any Thoughts; We Think Connections Between Thoughts. That's Where The Mind Moves, That's What's New, And The Thoughts Themselves Have Probably Been There In My Head Or Lots Of Other People's Heads For A Long Time.

I Do Think I Have An Ability To Record Sensual And Emotional Facts And Factoids, To Construct A Convincing Surface Of What Life Feels Like, Both Physical Life And Emotional Life.