A woman / who loves a woman / is forever young.

Let there be a heaven so that man may outlive his grasses.

Let the light be called Day so that men may grow corn or take busses.

I burn the way money burns.

Look to your heart that flutters in and out like a moth. God is not indifferent to your need. You have a thousand prayers but God has one.

Those moments before a poem comes, when the heightened awareness comes over you, and you realize a poem is buried there somewhere, you prepare yourself. I run around, you know, kind of skipping around the house, marvelous elation. It’s as though I could fly.

We talked death with burned-up intensity, both of us drawn to it like moths to an electric light bulb. Sucking on it!