Now is the time. It is never too late to start something.

I couldn't see myself filling some definite niche in what is called a career. This was all misty.

Poetry is the synthesis of hyacinths and biscuits.

The sea speaks a language polite people never repeat. It is a colossal scavenger slang and has no respect.

Poetry is the establishment of a metaphorical link between white butterfly-wings and the scraps of torn-up love-letters.

Poetry is any page from a sketchbook of outlines of a doorknob with thumb-prints of dust, blood, dreams.

Poetry is a sky dark with a wild-duck migration.