There Are A Lot Of Editorials That

No Matter How Wild Reality Was Obviously Often Being, It Was An Absolutely Secure Place, As A Tone And Intelligence, And A Thing Happening.

I Heard Words And Words Full Of Holes Aching.

Locale Is Both A Geographic Term And The Inner Sense Of Being.

As I Get Older, I Recognize That My Thinking About Poetry May Or May Not Have Anything Actively To Do With My Actual Work As A Poet. This Strikes Me As No Thing Cynically Awry But Rather Seems Again Instance Of That Hapless Or Possibly Happy Fact, We Do Not As Humans Seem Necessarily Aware Of What We Are Physically Or Psychically Doing At All!

For Love - I Would Split Open Your Head And Put A Candle In Behind The Eyes.