Poetry is the cipher key to the five mystic wishes packed in a hollow silver bullet fed to a flying fish.

Nothing happens... but first a dream.

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

All we need to begin with is a #‎ dream that we can do better than before. All we need to have is faith, and that dream will come true. All we need to do is act, and the time for action is now.

I wrote poems in my corner of the Brooks Street station. I sent them to two editors who rejected them right off. I read those letters of rejection years later and I agreed with those editors.

I have often wondered what it is an old building can do to you when you happen to know a little about things that went on long ago in that building.

The shovel is the brother to the gun.