Let there be seasons so that our tongues will be rich in asparagus and limes.
Rats live on no evil star
Poetry is my life, my postmark, my hands, my kitchen, my face.
I wonder if the artist ever lives his life--he is so busy recreating it.
Thief!- how did you crawl into, crawl down alone into the death I wanted so badly and for so long.
Women tell time by the body. They are like clocks. They are always fastened to the earth, listening for its small animal noises.