Nothing happens... but first a dream.

I never made a mistake in grammar but one in my life and as soon as I done it I seen it.

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

Poetry is a fresh morning spider-web telling a story of moonlit hours of weaving and waiting during a night.

If [America] forgets where she came from, if the people lose sight of what brought them along, if she listens to the deniers and mockers, then will begin the rot and dissolution.

Poetry is an exhibit of one pendulum connecting with other and unseen pendulums inside and outside the one seen.

Beware of advice-even this.