I couldn't see myself filling some definite niche in what is called a career. This was all misty.
I've written some poetry I don't understand myself.
I fell in love, not deep, but I fell several times and then fell out.
I have become infected, now that I see how beautifully a book is coming out of all this.
I'm an idealist. I don't know where I'm going, but I'm on my way.
Poetry is a slipknot tightened around a time-beat of one thought, two thoughts, and a last interweaving thought there is not yet a number for.