You can read everybody. It's not even interesting to tell the truth because to some extent it's false.
Were all moving, moving, moving. Isnt it nice?
The poem, for me, is simply the first sound realized in the modality of being.
I take space to be the central fact to man born in America. I spell it large because it comes large here. Large and without mercy.
We all want what's been suddenly disallowed.
This morning of the small snow I count the blessings, the leak in the faucet which makes of the sink time, the drop of the water on water.